Deligo Sanguis
by Menecarkawan
Summary: During the summer before Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, his mother's best friend comes with interesting news. SLASH! Pre HBP! slight DARK!Harry.
1. Arethusa Bennet

**DISCLAIMER: I do not claim ownership of Harry Potter or his universe. Some select characters may belong to me, but the rest belongs to the illustrious J K Rowling and her various publishers, as well as Warner Bros. Productions.**

**Author's Note: This is a re-posting of this story, following several requests from different people that I do so. Some scenes were re-written due to having be deleted, and so shall be slightly different from what you might remember. Is SLASH! No like? No read. Simple, isn't it? Harry is slightly dark in this, so be warned. Also, I tend to make my Harry a bit more intelligent that he is in cannon, so be warned about that too. This could be construed as a Severitus, but it doesn't exactly meet the requirements for that. With that said, enjoy!

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**Dëlîgo Sanguis **

**A Fan Fiction Novel**

**By: Menecarkawan**

**Chapter One**

**Arêthüsa Bennet**

**ONE**

A sixteen-year-old boy sat on the bench in the back garden of number 4 Privet Drive, doing his holiday homework. The book on his side was very large and

old-fashioned and he was writing on a large roll of parchment rather than in a notebook. You see, the boy on the bench was Harry Potter and he was a wizard-in-training.

"Boy!" a man's voice called from inside the house. "Get in here!"

Harry sighed, gathered his things together, and went into the cool kitchen. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he asked politely.

"If you insist on studying that filth," Uncle Vernon said venomously, "then do it where the neighbors can't see you!" Uncle Vernon was a large, beefy man with dark hair, a bushy mustache, no neck and red skin. He, along with Harry's aunt and cousin, viewed Harry's magical abilities as an abnormality, and they all lived in fear that the neighbors would discover their secret.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied. "I just wanted to get some sun."

"Go finish that rubbish in your room!" Uncle Vernon snapped.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his short, messy black hair. "Yes, Uncle Vernon," he said. He went up the stairs and entered the smallest bedroom. He sat down at his desk and took out his homework again, trying his best to concentrate on the assignment. His mind was swimming with memories from a nightmare the previous night. He couldn't push the thoughts of his godfather, Sirius Black, out of his mind. Sirius had died at the end of the last school year and Harry was consumed by guilt due to the circumstances of the event.

"I can't do this now," Harry muttered, setting his quill on top of his parchment. "I can't concentrate, Hedwig."

The snowy owl by the window hooted sympathetically. She was sitting quietly in her open cage, napping lightly.

"I wish I were someone else," Harry told her. "Anyone but who I am. It would probably even be better to be a Snape!"

Hedwig hooted again and shifted her position. She opened one amber eye and glanced at Harry.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry mumbled. "So maybe that's a _little_ extreme, but you see my point."

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon yelled up the stairs.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry called back. He moved out into the hall and looked over the banister at his uncle, who was standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Who are you talking to up there?" Uncle Vernon snarled.

"Hedwig," Harry replied with a shrug.

This answer seemed to enrage Uncle Vernon further and his face turned an unattractive shade of puce. "You can't hold a conversation with a bloody bird!" he snapped. "If you don't stop acting crazy, that pigeon will have to go!"

"All right," Harry replied. "But then I won't have a way to send letters to the Order. If they don't hear from me, they might start to think something was wrong."

Uncle Vernon seemed to have an internal debate before replying. "Just stop talking to the infernal thing!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied, moving back into his bedroom. He gave Hedwig an owl treat. "Uncle Vernon doesn't like it when I talk to you."

Hedwig hooted and moved closer to Harry, snuggling close to him.

"He doesn't understand," Harry said, stroking her feathers lovingly. "He doesn't know what it's like to be so alone. You're the only friend I have here, Hedwig."

Hedwig nipped Harry's ear.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

**TWO**

Harry had never had such a boring summer. Aunt Petunia spent most of her time peering out of the windows nervously, as if expecting a Death Eater attack at any moment. Harry often wondered just how much Aunt Petunia knew about Voldemort, but whenever he asked, he'd simply be told off and then ignored. Dudley did his best not to provoke Harry, and as Harry was rather depressed most of the time, Dudley didn't have to try very hard.

Harry was finishing his last essay the day after his birthday, that is 1 August, when the doorbell rang.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted up the stairs. "Get the door!" The bell rang again.

Harry got up, grumbling under his breath, and moved down the stairs to open the door. He swung the door wide just as the visitor dropped a stack of books and folders all over the front step. She was a tall woman with flaming red hair, milky skin and long limbs.

"Oh my goodness," she said, bending to pick up her things. She had an extremely thick Irish accent.

"Er, may I help you?" Harry asked, watching her scramble around picking up her mess.

"I… er, oh dear, look at this mess," the woman said. "I'm just the clumsiest person you'd ever meet. I'm, ah, I'm looking for… oh look at this." She picked up a sheet that had landed in a pool of water.

"You're looking for…" Harry pressed.

"Oh!" She got the last of her things and stood up, pushing her messy hair out of her expressive brown eyes. "I'm looking for… you, actually."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "Me?"

"Well, you are Harry Potter, aren't ya?" the lady asked. "You've go the scar, and you look just like James."

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon said, pushing Harry aside. "Who is it?"

"Oh, I just forget everything if I'm not reminded, so I do," the odd lady said. Harry was slightly amused by the way she talked so fast, you'd think she was running out of time. "I'm here to see Harry."

Uncle Vernon went from red to purple so fast; Harry thought the man might explode.

"Er, it's all right, Uncle Vernon," Harry said quickly, stepping outside. "We'll just go out back, okay?" He pulled the door shut and quickly ushered the woman to the back yard. "Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm no one important," the woman replied. The night was very dark because there was no moon. She sat on the garden bench and looked up at the stars. "Oh, you could say that someone might find me important, so you could, but…"

"Excuse me?" Harry interrupted. "I just meant, what's your name."

"Oh, how silly of me!" the lady exclaimed. "Arêthüsa Bennet." She held out her hand.

Harry took the offered hand and then sat next to her. "And, er, why are you looking for me?"

"Oh, I was Lily's best friend, so I was," Arêthüsa replied. "She made me promise to keep her secret, but you deserve to know the truth."

"The truth about what?"

"The truth about who you are, Harry! Oh, Lily never wanted to tell you, but that would be wrong, so it would. No, I know I had to find you and tell you."

"So tell me then. What was so important that you couldn't just send me an owl?"

"I don't trust owls, Harry. They can be intercepted, so they can. No, it's safer for me to come tell you in person. Oh, but Lily would have a fit if she knew that I was telling you. Mind you, we fought about this very thing for a long time, but she never agreed with me. I'm beyond caring about that now, because I think you ought to know."

"Know what?" Harry was starting to become aggravated by Arêthüsa's ranting.

"About your mum and da, of course!" Arêthüsa exclaimed. "Oh, but they were so in love, so they were, but everything was against them. They couldn't stay together! Oh no, but that would have been dangerous."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked. "Mum and Dad _did_ stay together!"

"No, no, no," Arêthüsa said with a dismissive wave. "Not _James_, Harry! _Severus_. Severus is your da, not James Potter. Everything…"

"Snape!" Harry yelled. "You're completely mad!"

"No, I'm not, Harry," Arêthüsa said patiently. "You don't know the whole story, so you don't. Will you listen?"

Harry sighed in exasperation but gave a curt nod.

"Lily and Severus were friends from about second year and on," Arêthüsa began. "Severus was a good kid, so he was, but he had to keep his thoughts hidden because of his family. Oh, but they would've had a fit if they'd known he'd befriended a Mudblood, as they called Lily.

"Severus put up his act around the other students, but he couldn't fool Lily. They became fast friends, and they started dating in their seventh year, so they did."

"Hang on," Harry interrupted. "Sirius told me that Mum and Da… er, James started dating in seventh year."

"Oh, so you've met Sirius, have you?" Arêthüsa said, looking slightly surprised as her mood turned suddenly sour. "Yeah, that's what the rest of the school thought as well. No, Lily and James were good friends, and James was covering for her. No, James had a broken wrist, so he did, and he wasn't interested."

"Broken wrist?" Harry asked, confused.

"He was fey, boy," Arêthüsa said.

"Fey?" Harry asked, shaking his head slightly.

Arêthüsa looked at Harry in astonishment. "He was homosexual, Harry! He liked boys! My goodness, have you been living under a rock?"

"James Potter liked boys?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Yeah, he did! He liked Sirius, in fact, and Sirius liked him back, so he did. They covered for Lily and Severus, and you know Severus never knew that they swung that way. Oh dear, for an intelligent man, Severus was always completely clueless."

"Can we get back to the story?" Harry asked irritably.

"I'm rambling again, aren't I?" Arêthüsa asked with a chuckle.

"Yes," Harry replied shortly.

"Well, Lily and Severus stayed together for years, so they did. They were two years out of Hogwarts when they separated. Albus Dumbledore finally talked Severus into joining the Death Eaters and spying for the Order. Severus broke off his relationship with Lily because they both would have been killed if old Voldemort found out about them. Lily was heartbroken, so she was, and she decided never to speak to Severus again."

"So if they broke up, how can I be Snape's kid?"

"I'm getting there, you little impatient Ivan. Now, where was I? Oh! So, two weeks after they broke up, Lily found out she was pregnant. Oh, it's a great disgrace for an unmarried witch to be pregnant, so it is, and Lily started to panic. Sirius was the one who had the idea that Lily and James should marry. The world thought they were together anyway, and it would be easier for all of them. So, Lily and James married and named Sirius your godfather and… everyone was happy. When you were born, I helped Lily perform the Dëlîgo Sanguis to make you look like James."

"What's that?" Harry asked. He had a suspicion that she was leaving something out, but he ignored it.

"The Dëlîgo Sanguis is a complicated spell concerning paternity," Arêthüsa explained. "It makes a child look like a man who is not the biological father, so it does. Once the child is told the truth, if he fully accepts his true parentage, the spell cancels itself."

"So, if I ever believe this codswallop you're feeding me, I'll look like Snape?"

"No, boy. You're misunderstanding me. The spell will cancel itself so you'll look like you, instead of looking like James."

"What do you mean, I'll look like me?"

"Every child is a unique blend of his mother and father. It's difficult to find a child that is an exact copy of one parent. No, you would look like you would have looked without the spell."

"But I'm not an exact copy of Da… James! In the Pensieve…"

"What Pensieve?"

"Erm… last year I sort of snuck a peak inside Snape's Pensieve. I saw my d… er, I saw James when he was fifteen and some things were different."

"Well, of course some things were different, Harry. Glamours and Transfiguration were always Lily's best subjects, so they were. She _left_ some of the things that resembled her, like your nose and eye color."

"So what happens if I never accept Snape as my father?"

"Then you'll look like James until the day you die. The spell cancels if you die, so it does, so you'd look like you in your grave. Lily wanted just that, but I didn't think that it was a good idea. You're a good kid, by all accounts, and I won't let old Dumbledore keep you in the dark."

"Dumbledore _knows_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course he knows, Harry," Arêthüsa replied. "Dumbledore knows everything, doesn't he?"

"Not everything," Harry muttered bitterly, thinking of Peter Pettigrew. "Look, that was a great story, but I don't believe for a moment that Severus Snape is my father. I mean the man is the quintessential insufferable greasy git. I would shoot myself if I turned out anything like that bastard!"

"You don't know him like you should, Harry. Severus is a good man with a big heart. He sought me out after Lily died, but it was still dangerous for him to know that you were his. He would have been angry and he would have taken you with him. There were still Death Eaters around that would have killed you both."

"Snape's heart is about as big as a walnut," Harry spat. "He hates everyone, especially me, and he'd probably die of a heart attack if you told him that the insufferable brat, Harry Potter, was his kid. He takes pleasure in punishing people, and he loves nothing more than humiliating me every chance he gets."

"He's bitter, Harry. He doesn't know you're his. He thinks that Lily forgot about him right away. In his mind, you should have been his and not James'. He treats you badly because he's angry that he lost his chance to have a family with Lily. Every time he sees you, it's like a reminder of what he gave up to help Dumbledore."

"How do you know what Snape is thinking?" Harry asked, looking at the ground.

"Because he's as much my friend as Lily was," Arêthüsa replied gently. "I'm on my way there after I leave here, so I am. I've got to tell him—"

"Please don't," Harry interrupted.

"What? Why not?"

"I just…" Harry couldn't put the dread he was feeling into words. "Just, let me tell him. I don't know that I'm ready for that much change yet. I'll tell him myself when I'm ready."

"You've got to tell him, Harry," Arêthüsa said uncertainly. "If he still doesn't know by the end of this school year, I'll tell him myself, so I will."

"I'll tell him, okay? Just not yet."

"Okay, but take these to show him," Arêthüsa said. She passed Harry the great stack of folders she was carrying. "Severus never believes anything without some kind of proof. These are all of your original birth records, as well as the legal documents allowing us to alter your physical appearance for an extended amount of time. If Severus doubts any of those papers, he can verify them with the Ministry of Magic, so he can." She stood up.

"Well, thanks, I guess," Harry said, also standing.

"Whatever for?"

"For telling me all of this. For taking the trouble to come all the way here to tell me in person."

"Ah, don't thank me for that. I've really go to go, so I do, but I'll be seeing you around, I expect." With that, she Disapparated with a loud crack.

**THREE**

Harry took the folders up to his room and sat on his bed, the folders in front of him. He wasn't sure that he believed a word Arêthüsa had said, but he decided to see the proof. The papers were all jumbled together where Arêthüsa had dropped them on the steps. Harry read the titles only and organized the folders into birth records, transfiguration applications and approval forms, and child welfare forms.

The birth certificate was a shock on its own, and Harry decided to obtain a copy from the Ministry before he believed what he was seeing.

**Child's Name: Harry James Evans**

**Father's Name: Severus Austerus Snape**

**Mother's Name: Lily Evans **

**Time of Birth: 3:25 a.m.**

**Date of Birth: 31 July, 1980 **

**Birth Weight: 8 pounds 3 ounces**

**Length: 43.18 centimeters**

**Birth Place: Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries**

**City: London **

**Country: England (United Kingdom)**

Harry's jaw dropped when he saw that no father had signed his birth certificate, making his legal name at birth Evans, not Potter _or_ Snape. He flipped to the next page to find adoption papers. According to the legal documents, Snape's parental rights were removed for Harry's safety. James then adopted Harry, thus legally changing the child's name from Evans to Potter.

The adoption records consisted of James' entire life story, or so it seemed to Harry. It included James' employment records, how much money he made per year (in Galleons); his legal records, or lack there of; his grades from Hogwarts; and character references from several people, including Albus Dumbledore.

The next papers he looked at were the Long Term Transfiguration Forms. There were results from medical exams stating that Harry was healthy enough to undergo the 'procedure'. There were tests on Lily and Arêthüsa (called 'the casters') to ensure that they could perform the spell for which they had applied. There were photographs of James from the front and sides, and pictures of Lily. There was a composite sketch of an estimated look for 'the subject' (Harry) that wouldn't be too obviously magical.

In the next folder were long, complicated legal documents explaining Lily's rights and responsibilities in doing the spell. Lily had signed the last page. There were similar contracts for James, who had also signed them. The next thick packet was legal agreements between Lily and James to raise Harry in a stable family unit, James acting the part of father and benefactor. After the legal contracts, were documents stating the final approval of James' adoption of Harry.

The last group of papers was child welfare documents stripping Snape of all parental rights over Harry, stating reasons why he would be endangering 'the minor'. The most often repeated reason was suspicion of Snape's allegiance to Voldemort. The last of the child welfare papers were for complete secrecy and protection of 'the minor's identity. Harry was listed as one of Voldemort's potential targets on 10 February, 1981. The Fidelius Charm was cast on 15 February, 1981 - Secret Keeper: Unknown.

The proof was overwhelming and seemed difficult to fabricate. Harry wasn't certain yet if he trusted this so-called proof, and so he sent a request to the Ministry of Magic for a copy of his birth certificate.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon's voice carried up the stairs. "Get down here at once!"

Harry collected the paperwork and neatly tucked it away under the loose floorboard under his bed. When he entered the kitchen, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking stern (more than usual).

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.

"We've discussed it and we don't want you inviting your freaky friends over here," Uncle Vernon said.

"I didn't," Harry replied.

"No?" Uncle Vernon snapped. "Then who was that Irish wench at the door earlier?"

"_I_ certainly didn't invite her," Harry said. "She just sort of… showed up."

"Well, make sure it doesn't happen again!" Aunt Petunia raged. "What would the neighbors think?"

"Oh, who _cares_?" Harry snapped, his patience running out. "You know, if you spent less time worrying about the neighbors, and more time thinking for yourself, all of our lives would be easier. She just showed up. I can't control what other people do. Good night." He turned on his heel and stormed up the stairs, leaving Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gaping behind him.


	2. Confrontations

**Chapter Two**

**Confrontations**

**ONE**

The Dursleys had all but forgotten about Harry's presence in their home after Arêthüsa's visit. He didn't mind their silence. He preferred the Dursley's this way, silent and out of the way. He wrote to the Order every three days to ensure them of his safety, but received no other contact from the wizarding world. He had, of course, received the results for his O.W.L.s and was pleased to learn of his O in Potions.

"Well, Hedwig," he said to his owl as he packed his trunk up. "We're off to school tomorrow. One more year after this, Hedwig, and then we'll be free."

Hedwig hooted her agreement, clicking her beak impatiently. Clearly Harry wasn't the only one anxious be away from the Dursley's.

"Potter!" Uncle Vernon yelled up the stairs.

Harry emerged from his room and looked over the banner at his massive Uncle. "Yes, Uncle Vernon?" he asked, tilting his head with curiosity.

"Are your things packed, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied.

"Good. We're leaving for the station early. You'd better be ready when I come to get you in the morning. I don't want to dawdle."

"I'll be ready, sir," Harry replied. He wondered briefly what 'early' meant.

"Be sure that you are," Uncle Vernon snarled.

Harry shrugged and went back into his room, intent on getting to bed early.

"Better turn in, Hedwig," he said. "It looks like we're going to have an early day tomorrow." He set his alarm for five o'clock just in case and went to bed.

**TWO**

Harry stared out at Platform 9 3/4 through the window of his compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Uncle Vernon had dropped Harry off at the station at seven o'clock that morning. The barrier to the platform hadn't been opened yet, so Harry was made to wait in the eerily quiet train station. The barrier had opened at 8:30 and Harry had been sitting on the train since.

He watched as the platform crowded with students, all bustling about, meeting friends and saying heartfelt goodbyes before boarding the train. His heart clenched painfully with the thought that he'd never gotten to say goodbye to Sirius. He would never again see his smile, or his bright eyes upon greeting Harry. Harry could clearly recall the moment one year ago, when Sirius, disguised in his dog form 'Snuffles', had jumped up and tried to hug Harry. Harry closed his eyes and placed his head against the cool glass of the window, choking back the sob that wanted to escape from his chest.

"There you are!" a voice sounded behind him. "He's in here, Ron!"

Harry turned as Hermione entered his compartment, followed closely by Ron. They were Harry's two best friends in the world, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to feel happy to see them.

"Hiya, Harry!" Ron said cheerily, sitting next to his friend, after hauling his and Hermione's trunks into the overhead compartment.

"Hi guys," Harry said quietly, turning to look back out of the window.

"You all right there, Harry?" Ron asked, opening Pig's cage and allowing the tiny owl to zoom around the compartment excitedly.

"I'm fine, thanks," Harry replied mechanically. He watched as the train lurched and the platform slowly passed from view, revealing the bustling, late morning city of London.

Ron opened his mouth, but Hermione shook her head sharply.

"So, how was your summer?" she asked with false cheer.

"Fine, thanks," Harry replied. "Yours?" He didn't turn away from the window, but he could see Hermione's worried expression reflected in the clean glass.

"Oh, it could have been better," Hermione replied, maintaining her cheerful tone. "It would have been much better if you were there, of course, but Dumbledore wouldn't even let us_ write!_ Can you believe the nerve of that man?"

Harry shrugged noncommitally, not turning away from the window. He couldn't help but think that, were it he, _he_ would have at least _tried_ to sneak one past Dumbledore.

"I tried to get Pig out," Ron said, as if reading Harry's mind. "Dumbledore had put up some kind of spell up to keep him in."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, fixing a glare on the redhead.

"What?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes. "I had to _try!_ Harry probably thought we forgot about him!"

Harry finally turned away from the window to look at his friend. "Did Dumbledore say why he didn't want you to write?" he asked.

"Some posh about your protection," Ron grumbled. "It's not like we were going to go blathering all of his secrets in our letters. By the way, your birthday present is in my trunk. I'll give it to you after the feast."

"Thanks," Harry said, feeling considerably warmer toward Ron. He turned back to the window, ignoring Hermione's huffy expression at the thought of Ron disobeying Dumbledore's orders. She was behaving just like the little pawn that Dumbledore wanted her to be.

As the train traveled steadily northward, it began to rain. Harry watched as the drops pelted the window.

"The first years will have a nice trip across the lake in _that_," Hermione said, also looking out of the window.

"Yeah," Harry replied absently, his thoughts on the stack of legal documents in his trunk. Snape's reaction to Harry's news would be proof of whether he'd ever been with Harry's mum. He was oblivious to the concerned looks he was drawing from his friends. He barely spoke for the whole train ride, not even when Malfoy and his cohorts showed up an hour into the trip.

When the train arrived at Hogsmeade station, Harry disembarked without really paying attention to what he was doing. He felt a strong pang of regret and guilt when he saw the Thestrals waiting patiently to pull the students up to the school. Harry swallowed hard and boarded the carriage, trying not to look at the Thestrals.

"Are you _sure_ that you're all right, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking at his feet as though they were the most interesting things in the world. _'If we had never learned about the Thestrals, I wouldn't have been able to get to the Ministry. Sirius wouldn't have died because of his stupid, impulsive godson. If only I had tried harder with my Occlumency. If only I had listened! I'm so stupid!'_

"Harry," Hermione said, touching Harry's arm lightly.

Harry jumped in surprise and turned to look at her. "Huh?" he asked.

"We've arrived," Hermione said. "Come on." She gave Harry one last concerned glance before getting out of the carriage.

Harry got out and walked into the castle, not noticing the sympathetic looks he was receiving from the other students. He sat heavily at the Gryffindor table, staring at his hands silently.

"It looks like we've got a lot of new students this year," Hermione said. "I saw them following Hagrid back at the station."

"Hm," Harry said absently, not looking up.

"Ginny made prefect," Ron announced.

"Oh?" Harry asked, looking down the table. Ginny was seated just a few seats away. "Congratulations, Ginny," Harry called.

Ginny went crimson. "Oh, thanks," she mumbled before glaring at Ron, who grinned cheekily at her.

"Mum was so proud, I thought she might collapse," Ron said.

Harry grinned slightly at the thought of Mrs. Weasley. "How is she?" he asked.

"She's Mum," Ron replied. "She's really worried about you though. She _disagreed_ with Dumbledore! Can you believe it? She said it wouldn't be a good idea to leave you without any contact. She was overridden, obviously, but she really tried to make him change his mind."

"I'll have to write to her," Harry said. The doors to the Hall opened and McGonagall entered with the first years. There were, indeed, a great deal of new first years streaming in behind McGonagall, all of them looking around the Great Hall nervously. Harry groaned.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"The Sorting is gonna take all night," Harry muttered, wanting nothing more than to leave the suffocating Hall and go to his dorm room.

"I know," Ron agreed. "I'm starving!"

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and smiled weakly at Ron. "Yeah," he said. Harry was surprised to see that he recognized one of the first years. There was a small blonde boy near the middle of the line who looked like a boy from Harry's neighborhood named Mark Evans. He was wet and shivering, like the rest of the first years, and he was staring around the Hall with wide eyes. He jumped with surprise when his eyes landed on Harry. Harry smiled at him and received a tentative smile in return.

"Who are you looking at?" Hermione asked.

Harry cursed her attentiveness. "Mark Evans," he said. "He lives in Little Whinging, a few streets away from the Dursleys."

"Oh," Hermione said with interest, turning her eyes back to the first years. The Sorting took nearly forty-five minutes, and each house got a fair number of new students. Mark Evans went to Ravenclaw, and after the feast, he approached Harry.

"Hey, you're Harry Potter, right?" he asked.

_'Not actually,'_ Harry thought. "Yeah, that's me."

"Mum told me that you went to St. Brutus'!" Mark exclaimed.

"I know," Harry replied. "The Statute for Secrecy and all that, you know? We couldn't tell her where I _really_ went to school."

"Oh."

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said behind him. "You don't want to get a detention the first night back."

"I'm coming," Harry said over his shoulder. "You'd better follow your classmates or you'll get lost."

"Yeah, see you," Mark said and ran up the stairs after the rest of the Ravenclaws. Harry turned and began a slow ascent to Gryffindor Tower, feeling tired and bogged down. He entered the common room behind Hermione and immediately retreated to the dorm.

Ron entered a few minutes later and eyed Harry curiously. Harry was in bed already, but his curtains weren't drawn.

"You've been really quiet today," Ron said sitting on his bed and removing his shoes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm always quiet, Ron," Harry replied. "I'm fine, I've told you."

"Okay, Harry," Ron said, holding his hands up defensively.

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, Ron. I'm just tired." He didn't want to alienate the only friend he had who had made an attempt to contact him, even if it _was_ a failed attempt.

"That's all right, Harry," Ron said, getting under his blankets. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Harry pulled his curtains closed and fell asleep shortly after. His rest was short-lived because he had unpleasant dreams. He dreamt of Sirius falling through the veil and Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant face as it happened. He dreamt of Voldemort trying to take over his body and the extreme pain that had accompanied that event. He dreamt of Dumbledore, telling half-truths and hiding facts, causing people Harry loved to die.

**THREE **

He woke with a start near dawn after dreaming that Snape had poisoned his lunch for spreading vicious lies. His breathing was erratic until he calmed down enough to get out of bed. He gathered fresh robes and took a long hot shower, losing himself under the spray. He washed his hair, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp, paranoid about his hair becoming greasy like Snape's. He massaged the soap into his body, trying to work out the tension that had been building for more than a year. After he finished washing, he stood under the spray for another fifteen minutes.

Harry sat in the common room after his shower going over the legal documents Arêthüsa Bennet had given him, looking for any flaws that might indicate that they were false.

_'Is it really so impossible?' _he wondered as he looked at his birth certificate. _'The Sorting Hat wanted me in Slytherin. Maybe it's because the Hat knew that Snape was my father. Is it really such a stretch?'_ As the gray light of the rising sun brightened the common room windows, Harry put the papers into his school bag and left Gryffindor Tower to have an early breakfast. He was surprised to see Snape already sitting at the High Table. Snape glared at Harry before getting back to his meal.

"Bloody git," Harry muttered. He piled food on his plate and began eating mechanically. His depression had sunk so far that eating was just something he did because he had to. He didn't often feel hungry, but he didn't want to get sick and make more people worry about him. While Harry ate, McGonagall passed him and placed his timetable next to him. Potions first. "Damn it," Harry whispered. Shaking his head, he moved to the door and descended to the dungeons.

He sat down on the floor next to the closed door of Snape's class and pulled out the documents that stripped away Snape's parental rights. He'd been taking notes on the papers Arêthüsa had given him, determined to find inconsistencies that would prove them false. After a long time he sighed in defeat.

"It all adds up," he said, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes. "God, I hate that man."

"Talking to yourself, Potter?" a sneering voice asked. Harry looked up at the pale face of Draco Malfoy without comment. "I always knew you were totally barmy," Malfoy went on. "The _Prophet_ wasn't too far off the mark after all."

"Why do you care, Malfoy?" Harry asked in an almost bored tone. "If I went barmy, that makes me that much easier to kill."

"Touché, Potter, but I disagree," Malfoy replied. "Crazy men are the most dangerous. Maybe someone should do you in now, while you're sitting."

"Is that a threat, Malfoy?" Harry asked calmly.

"What do you think?" Malfoy replied. "Oh, I forgot. You can't think."

Harry raised his eyebrow and began packing his things away. Malfoy was wearing a triumphant smirk when Harry walked up to him. "You know, for someone who _thinks_ so much, you seem very content to throw your life away for Voldemort."

Malfoy blanched slightly, but recovered quickly. His eyes flicked to Harry's right before settling on Harry's face again. "You should watch yourself around here, Potter," he spat. "Not everyone in this school worships you like your little Mudblood."

Harry glanced in the direction Malfoy's eyes had gone a moment ago and saw Hermione standing at his shoulder. "Hermione doesn't worship _anyone_, let alone me. She's more intelligent and independent than you'll ever be."

Malfoy's cheeks turned pink in anger, but just as he opened his mouth to reply, the door opened and Snape ushered them inside.

"Whoever you sit next to will be your partner for the rest of the year, when a partner is required," Snape said as he swept to the front of the class. Harry and Hermione sat at the back. Malfoy sat with Pansy Parkinson at the very front. Harry noticed how small the class was and wondered if there was another sixth year Potions class.

"As this is an N.E.W.T. level class, and we will be covering dangerous and potent potions, I expect nothing but the best from all of you," Snape went on, turning with a wave of flourishing black robes. "All summer assignments will be passed forward now." There was a commotion as all the students produced their summer homework and passed it to the front of the room. Harry wondered if Snape practiced in front of a mirror to make his robes billow the way they did as said professor moved forward to collect the homework.

The class passed slowly as they carefully cut and measured ingredients and brought their cauldrons to rolling boils for the Dreamless Sleep Potion they were learning today. Harry let the depression keep him calm and helped Hermione create a perfect potion with minimal help. Hermione was beaming at him by the end of the class. The expression made Harry feel sick.

Snape dismissed the class with a sneer and a wave of his hand after all the vials were bottled and on his desk.

"You go on, Hermione," Harry told his bushy haired friend. "I have to talk to Snape."

"Are you sure, Harry?" Hermione asked, glancing apprehensively at the sour professor.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Tell McGonagall that I'm coming."

"Okay, Harry," Hermione said, giving Harry a hug and dashing out of the room.

Harry put down his bag and removed the stack of legal documents, and then he tentatively walked to Snape's desk. "Sir?" he asked.

"What do you want, Potter?" Snape asked disdainfully. "I should think that you would have left as quickly as possible."

Harry cleared his throat and gathered his courage. "A friend of yours came to see me over the summer."

Snape's head snapped up from the lesson plan he was reviewing and he glared suspiciously at Harry. "I don't have friends, Potter."

"I think you do," Harry countered, unperturbed. "She gave me these papers. I think that you should read them."

"I am not going to waste my time with your silly indulgences," Snape spat, turning his attention back to his lesson plan.

"I think that you'll find them rather interesting," Harry commented. "I'll just leave them here." He placed the stack on Snape's desk, picked up his bag and left the room. The third years waiting outside of Snape's door watched him curiously as he passed.

**FOUR**

Severus was in his office, grading the summer assignments and doing his best to ignore his curiosity about the stack of papers on the corner of his desk. He kept telling himself that anything Potter found interesting had to be detrimental to his own health, but it did nothing to quell his curiosity. When the temptation grew to be too much, he cursed softly and put down his quill. He looked at the papers for a moment and then pulled the first folder from the top of the pile toward him. When he opened it and saw the first page, his stomach clenched uncomfortably at what he saw.

**Child's Name: Harry James Evans**

**Father's Name: Severus Austerus Snape**

"It cannot be," he whispered. He was staring at the birth certificate, transfixed, when there was a loud knock at his door. He jumped in surprise and cursed under his breath. "Who is it?" he said angrily, putting the birth certificate back into its folder.

"Airy," a woman's voice replied.

Severus smiled and moved across the small office to open the door, behind which stood a tall, pale redhead with large expressive eyes. "Airy, it's been ages," he said, standing aside to allow the woman entrance. "Does Albus know you're here?"

"Albus doesn't _need_ to know," Airy replied shortly. Severus always felt entranced by her accent. "That old fool isn't all important, Severus."

"You know I respect him, Airy," Severus said gently. "I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue about him."

Airy waved her hand dismissively. "I see Harry's spoken to ya," she said, pointing at the stack of folders. "I honestly didn't expect him to."

"_You're_ the friend he was talking about?" Severus asked incredulously. "What is this rubbish you gave him?"

"You haven't read it then?" Airy asked.

"I've read enough to know that it's a cruel joke!"

Airy watched him quietly, no emotion showing on her face. "You know I wouldn't joke about this, Severus. I know how important Lily was to you."

"I don't want to hear about Lily!" Severus snapped. "I never should have trusted her! She was a liar and a Mudblood and she didn't deserve the attention of a pureblooded wizard!"

"You don't mean that, Severus," Airy said softly. "She wasn't a liar. She was heartbroken when you left her."

"Oh yes. That's why she married Potter two weeks later. How long were they screwing around behind my back?"

"They never did, Severus, not even after they married."

"Oh, so I suppose the mini-Potter was a creation of magic then?"

"Did you read any of that?" Airy asked angrily, waving at Severus' desk. "He's your son, Severus! She only married James to protect her name! He never touched her!"

"Impossible," Severus scoffed. He sat down heavily and folded his arms on the top of the desk. "No man could have lived with Lily and not touched her. She was far too beautiful for that."

"Bless your heart, Severus," Airy said fondly. "James was never interested in Lily, or any other girl, for that matter."

Severus stared at her. "He was fey?"

"So he was," Airy replied. "Only you were too dense to notice."

"I am _not_ dense," Severus said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "So who was his lover, then?"

Airy smiled warmly and said, "Sirius."

For a moment Severus thought he'd heard wrong. "You're making fun of me," he said. Airy shook her head and held his gaze. "How is it possible? Potter looks just like his father!"

Airy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back on the shelves behind her. "Just how far into the papers did you get?"

"I've only seen the birth certificate."

"Well, the answers to all of your questions are in that stack, so they are. This isn't the reason I came here at any rate."

"Oh?" Severus asked, a small smile appearing on his face.

**FIVE**

Harry was determined to speak to Snape before curfew and make _sure_ that he looked over the documents. Harry may not have _believed_ that he was related to Snape, but he wanted the man's point of view on the situation. Snape had said that he didn't have friends, which made either Snape or Arêthüsa Bennet a liar.

As he approached Snape's office, he heard raised voices and slowed his footsteps. He got close to the door and paused to listen. A soft voice that Harry recognized was speaking.

"Just how far into the papers did you get?"

"I've only seen the birth certificate," Snape replied.

"Well, the answers to all of your questions are in that stack, so they are. This isn't the reason I've come here at any rate."

"Oh?" Snape asked sounding slightly amused. Harry was surprised to hear that tone coming from Snape.

"Don't get fresh with me, Severus Snape," the first voice said. "I want to know why Harry believes that you hate him."

"What makes you think that is what he believes?" Snape asked in a pinched tone that was much more Snape-ish.

"He told me that you hate him," the first voice said, and Harry realized with a jolt that it was Arêthüsa. "What's more, I think he hates you right back, so I do."

"I have no doubt," Snape said sardonically.

"You need to fix this, Severus," Arêthüsa said. "Even if he never accepts who he is, you should have some kind of _civil_ relationship with your son. I know how you are, and I know you've been taking out your anger and frustration at Lily on that poor boy."

"Stop this!" Snape yelled. "Why are you doing this? Do you know how many years I've spent trying to forget Lily?"

"My guess would be seventeen," Arêthüsa replied calmly. "Look, I know that bringing up the past hurts, but you have to face facts. Harry is your son, and you have a responsibility to be kind to him. I wasn't going to tell you because I promised Harry that I'd let him do it. Since he's already told you, then I'm sure you can see the importance of your relationship with him."

"Do not lecture _me_, Arêthüsa Bennet," Snape growled. "You have no _idea_ what I went through because of Lily's perceived betrayal! How can you just expect me to be nice to her spawn when he should bloody well have been _mine_!"

"But he _is _yours, Severus," Arêthüsa said gently.

"THAT'S NOT THE BLOODY POINT!" Snape exploded.

Harry decided to interrupt before this argument got out of hand. He knocked loudly and waited.

The room fell into silence for a moment, and then Harry heard fast steps and the door flew open to reveal a very angry Snape.

"What do you want, Potter?" he spat.

Harry swallowed. "I thought we might discuss the papers that I gave you," he said.

"I do not have the time nor the bloody patience to deal with you right now, Potter," Snape sneered.

"That is enough!" Arêthüsa exclaimed, appearing at Snape's shoulder. "You're angry with me! You don't have to take it out on him!"

Snape turned and glared at her while Harry watched in fascination.

"I will not let you abuse him in my presence, so I won't!" She turned to Harry. "Come along, Harry." She swept past him and began moving down the hall.

Harry cast one last glance at Snape before catching up to Arêthüsa.

"That man makes me so _angry _sometimes!" she exclaimed.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"I just had to speak to your da, Harry. It didn't go well, as you could see."

"Talk to him about what?" Harry asked, not wanting her to know that he'd been listening.

"Oh, just this and that," she replied. "A visit with an old friend, 'tis all."

"Ms, Bennet, may I ask what you are doing on school grounds?" a voice asked to Harry's left. He turned and saw Dumbledore looking distinctly displeased.

Arêthüsa emitted a frightening sound like a growl. "Keep your boots on Dumbledore," she spat. "I was just leaving."

"You are not supposed to be here to start with," Dumbledore said.

"I wasn't here to threaten your precious school! I had to speak to Severus. I'll see you, Harry." Her tone softened at the last and then she was gone.

"Hey, where did she go?" Harry asked, looking around. He looked toward the front doors and saw them just swinging closed. "How'd she do that?"

"Come with me, Harry," Dumbledore said and led Harry to his office. When they were both seated, Dumbledore rested his arms on the desk in front of him. "I must ask you not to be alone with Arêthüsa Bennet."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"She's a dangerous woman, Harry," Dumbledore replied.

"Yeah, she's so dangerous that when she came to my house this summer, I was perfectly healthy when she left."

"Harry—"

"No, I'm not going to let you dictate my life. I've done fine on my own until now, and I think I can tell who to make friends with."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded. "If I cannot make you stay away from her, could you promise to be on your guard when she's around? I am only thinking of your safety."

"Fine," Harry said, and left the office. He went straight to his dorm and dropped on his bed fully dressed, but sleep was a long time in coming.


	3. Extenuating Circumstances

**Author's Note: Just a little clarification before we start: I know that in cannon Lily was in Gryffindor. Since this story is almost entirely AU, I don't feel the need to keep to cannon, therefore I don't feel the need to keep her in Gryffindor. I figured she and James were in the same year and were head boy and girl respectively, so it would be better for them to be in separate houses. Just my own little bit of reasoning. Enjoy!

* * *

**

**Chapter Three**

**Extenuating Circumstances **

**ONE**

Severus sat late in the night going over the documents Potter had left him. He couldn't believe the lengths Lily went to in order to keep his only child, his heir, away from him. If this was true, and Severus was definitely going to confirm the information Airy had given Potter, then he would have to take measures to resume custody of his child. At the very least, he felt that some kind of relationship needed to be forged between them if, and only if, these documents proved credible. His mission as a spy for the Order could not be jeopardized by a cruel joke played by a demented Irish woman. He hadn't seen Airy for many years, but that was partly because he never left the school for any extended amount of time and Dumbledore had forbidden her to ever show her face within the establishment.

His heart clenched at the thought that Lily would do something so devious, so Slytherin, to never inform him that he had a child. She was a Ravenclaw in school; she was supposed to be sensible; she was supposed to understand that you couldn't just steal a man's firstborn son without ever informing the man that the child existed. He also wondered if Airy had known all along, and the documents said that she helped to cast the charm, then why hadn't she told him before now that he had a child. If it was a promise, surely it didn't matter anymore after Lily was gone. Why had she waited fifteen years? Severus sighed, admitting defeat, and decided to give up his futile questions in favor of a stiff drink.

**TWO**

"Potter, how many times must I ask you to keep your eyes on your own cauldron?" Severus sneered at his possible offspring. "Surely your ears haven't been damaged by your romps about the grounds."

Potter sighed heavily. "Sorry sir," he muttered, stirring his cauldron with slow deliberate movements. Granger seemed worried about her friend, but dared not utter a word about it under Severus' careful watch of the room.

After the class had finished, Potter stayed behind.

"What is it, Potter?" Severus snapped at the youth. "Do you want detention? Because I would gladly assign you enough to keep you busy for the rest of the year."

"Did you read the papers?" Potter asked, rather bravely in Severus' opinion, considering the man's mood.

"I read your bloody papers, and I intend to prove their credibility before I blindly believe them. Don't tell me you actually _believed_ that rubbish without proving them reliable?"

"Do I look like I believe it, sir?" Potter asked, getting his old temper back. "Or don't you know about the Dëlîgo Sanguis?"

"Of course I know how the bloody spell works, Potter! Get out of my sight before I make good on my offer!"

Potter shook his head in an almost disappointed fashion before vacating the classroom.

**THREE**

"I need to speak with you, Albus," Severus stated, seating himself in front of the old man's desk. "It is rather important."

"I'm listening, my boy," Albus replied, popping a sherbet lemon into his mouth. "What is troubling you?"

Severus pulled one of the documents from his robes. "Is this your signature?" he asked, passing the page across the desk.

Albus took the sheet and promptly looked very stern. "Where did you get this?" he asked sharply.

"That is a moot point, Albus," Severus replied evasively. "Did you sign it, or didn't you?"

Albus sighed heavily. "I did, Severus."

Severus' heart fell. Potter was his son. A boy he'd treated like dirt for the better part of five years was his heir. "Why?" he asked, unable to formulate any other words through his shock.

"I did what was best for all parties involved, Severus," Albus replied. "You were a spy for us. If the Dark Lord found out that you had a child with a Muggleborn witch, it would have cost all of your lives. He couldn't find out if even _you_ did not know the truth. I felt that, considering the circumstances, it was the safest option for everyone. I'm sorry to hurt you so, Severus, but surely you can see the necessity for the mendacity."

"I want my son," Severus demanded. "You cannot keep him from me now that I know the truth. I demand that you return him to me."

"I don't know where you got this, Severus, but I must tell you that that is quite impossible. Your rights as his biological parent have been stripped."

"THEN BLOODY WELL GET THEM RESTORED!" Severus roared, jumping up from his seat to tower over Dumbledore. "HE IS MY SON! YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO KEEP HIM FROM ME!"

"Calm yourself this instant or I shall have you expelled from my office," Albus admonished. Once Severus was seated and silent, Albus continued. "It is not that simple. With Fudge still in office, it will be nearly impossible to restore your rights to you. He still believes you are loyal to Voldemort. He would never grant you custody."

"Why the Hell not? He believes that Potter is a liar and an attention seeker. Why not place him with his kind?"

"Because then he would be giving you what you want. I will do what I can, Severus. In the mean time, I shall see if we can't come up with a temporary arrangement."

Severus sighed heavily. "Very well, Albus," he said. "I'm going to get some rest." He went back to his rooms feeling rather depressed.

**FOUR**

"I'm so bloody tired of him," Harry complained to his friends two weeks into the term. "All he ever does is degrade me for no reason. It's really getting old."

"He's always been this way, Harry," Hermione said. "We only have this year and next, and then you won't have to see him again."

"Do you really believe that, Hermione?" Harry asked her, raising a very Snape-like eyebrow at her. "Unless the war ends before we graduate, I'll be seeing plenty of him." He sighed heavily. "I wish I could understand why he hates me so much."

"Yeah, but you hate him too. Don't you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what to think of him anymore. I know I look like Ja… er… my dad, but that's not my fault. I'm not him. I never was."

Hermione gave him a shrewd look, causing Harry to wince at his slip up. Ever since he had spoken with Arêthüsa, he'd been thinking of his dad as James. _'Snape is not my father, damn it! It's not possible!'_

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. "Something seems to be bothering you."

"I'm fine, Hermione," Harry replied. "Can we just drop this subject for now?"

"Of course, Harry. I'm here if you want to talk about it later."

Harry nodded his understanding, knowing that he wasn't going to talk to her about Snape if he could help it.

**FIVE**

Harry knocked on the thick wooden door, hoping that Snape wouldn't be there and he could just go back to his common room. He sighed heavily when he heard the sharp 'Come in!' on the other side of the door, pushing it open and seating himself quietly in front of Snape's desk.

Watching Snape, Harry wondered what made the man tick. His hair was long and greasy as ever, hanging limply in his face, shielding his eyes from scrutiny. He was watching Harry closely, as if hoping that he'd morph into someone else.

'Of course he wants me to be someone else,' Harry thought. 'Who would love me? I don't deserve anyone's love, not even his. After what's happened to the people around me, just because I exist. Sirius didn't have to die. He wouldn't have if only I had listened to Snape and learned the bloody Occlumency like he wanted.'

**SIX**

Severus watched Potter carefully as the silence in his office stretched on endlessly. The boy was observing him quietly, apparently scrutinizing his professor. Severus noticed the sad look in the boy's eyes, realizing that it wasn't something new. Potter's eyes had always held that sadness, that pain, only Severus had never really looked at the boy before. As he watched Potter now, he knew that he'd always seen that look there only he'd been too busy hating the boy to notice or care. What could have happened to make someone so young look so miserable?

"Erm, so what do we do now, sir?" Potter asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had descended on them.

"I am uncertain as to your meaning," Severus replied.

"I mean… well, did you get your proof?"

"I did. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't."

"So what do you want to do? We can't go back to the way things were. I don't think I could handle that."

"This isn't just about _you_, Potter."

Potter sighed. "I know that. You know, when I first came here, people always told me how much I reminded them of James, and how much I looked like him. I used to smile when they said that. I wanted to be like my parents, to have some kind of link to them aside from this scar on my forehead. Ever since last year, when I made the highly unwise, and illegal decision to look into your Pensieve, I realize that I don't want to be like James.

"What he did to you was just cruel, and I would never resort to such barbarism. I've never been more ashamed of anyone as I was of James when I saw what he did to you."

"You wouldn't have done the same to Mr. Malfoy then?" Severus asked skeptically, eyeing Potter quietly.

"No," he replied without hesitation. "Every confrontation I've ever had with him, _he_ instigated. I don't look for trouble with him, but rather the other way around. I've traded words with Malfoy, but I've never tried to humiliate him. No one deserves to be treated that way. I'm sorry that James treated you that way, but please don't blame me for his stupidity. I wouldn't dream of treating anyone that way."

The oppressive silence returned as Severus considered the young man before him. Perhaps Albus' idea held some merit after all. "I think it would be prudent to begin Occlumency lessons again."

"Do you really think that's the best way to establish a relationship between us? We didn't get along very well the first time 'round."

"I will make an attempt to be more civil towards you, but you must make an effort to learn what I am trying to teach you. You didn't even try last year. If we're going to do this, you must put forth the effort."

Potter lowered his head. "Yes, sir," he said softly.

"What is troubling you?" Severus asked, noting the change in attitude.

"I grew up with Muggles," Potter replied. "I haven't the slightest idea of how to clear my mind the way you kept insisting. Every time I tried, my mind would just fill up with thoughts I just couldn't get rid of."

Severus ran his finger lightly over his lip, thinking over what Potter had just told him. "We shall have to start there then," he said after a moment. "Meditation can be a wizard's best friend if done correctly. We will begin again on Monday evening."

"Am I still taking Remedial Potions?" Potter asked.

"I shall have to find a different excuse since you have already made it into N.E.W.T. level Potions. The Remedial Potions excuse won't work. I will think of something."

"I have an idea, if you'd like to hear it."

"I'm listening."

"I could do something excessively stupid in your class so you have an excuse to assign me detention for the rest of the year."

Severus blinked. That was an excellent idea. "Very well," he said. "Your next class with me is the day after tomorrow. Do it then."

Potter nodded. "I'll see you in class then, sir," he said, standing and moving to the door.

"Good night, Potter," Severus told him. Potter gave him a strange look.

"Good night, sir," he said after a moment, shaking his head as though to clear it. He left the office, closing the door gently behind him.

**SEVEN**

Harry walked slowly, his mind wrapped up in things he'd rather not think about. As he moved through the darkened corridors, he noticed a figure leaning against the wall ahead of him. He recognized the person as Draco Malfoy, his silhouette bathed in moonlight, making him look like one of the heroes in Aunt Petunia's ridiculous romance movies. The pale light glittered in Malfoy's platinum hair, his pale face shadowed handsomely as he watched Harry approach.

Harry pretended not to notice Malfoy as he passed, still deep in thought about the meeting he'd just had with his apparent father. Why the man insisted on calling him 'Potter' still, after having admitted that he thought the documents real baffled Harry; Snape didn't have to call him 'son' or anything so ludicrous, but was it really so much to ask for a simple 'Harry?' Harry sighed, shaking his head in frustration, unable to come up with anything that could ease his mind.

"Ignoring me, Potter?" Malfoy asked from his spot by the wall as Harry passed.

Harry nodded absently, not feeling up for a confrontation at that moment. Malfoy grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face the irate Slytherin. "What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"What are you doing down in Slytherin territory so close to curfew?" Malfoy asked, sneering at Harry unpleasantly.

Harry stared at the blonde silently, unable to comprehend the immaturity that it must take to hold a grudge for so long. The only reason Harry disliked Malfoy so much was because the Slytherin insisted on acting like an idiot at every turn. Harry made the decision that he'd had enough of their rivalry at that moment. "Why do you care?" he asked, his tone remaining friendly.

"In case you've forgotten, Potter, you're a _Gryffindor_," Malfoy sneered. "Has your fan club decided you're not worthy of its time?"

Anger rolled through Harry at the words 'fan club'. He'd had enough, and he was going to be sure that Malfoy knew it. He grabbed Malfoy's robes and pushed the boy forcefully against the wall he'd been leaning against. "Listen to me, Malfoy, and listen well," Harry hissed. "I've had enough of your petty hatred for me. There's no reason for it. If you're still peeved about the handshake from first year, _get over it_. I have the power _and_ ability to make your life Hell, but I choose not to exercise that power."

He reached up a hand and ran his finger down Malfoy's jaw, amazed at the smoothness of the skin. "It's a shame," he muttered. "You're so beautiful to look at, but you're _hideous_ on the inside. How can someone so beautiful be so ugly? I'm going to ignore your existence from now on, Malfoy. If you know what's good for you, you'll grant me the same courtesy. I'm tired of fighting with you when, frankly, I have more important things to worry about. Good night, Malfoy. Hopefully we won't have to relive this night." He pushed away from Malfoy, who was staring at him with undisguised fear, and resumed his walk to Gryffindor Tower.

**EIGHT**

Harry sighed deeply, doing his best to intentionally get his potion wrong. Luckily, some N.E.W.T. level Potions were done on an individual basis, so Hermione couldn't save his potion. He had to stop himself from smiling when the potion began to smoke, producing a most repugnant odor in the process.

"Potter!" Snape exclaimed, moving to Harry's desk in a flurry of billowing black robes. He doused the flame under Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand, ladled a bit out, and then leveled a glare at Harry. "I would expect this level of incompetence from a first year, Potter, not from an N.E.W.T. level student!"

"Perhaps if you learned how to teach, Potions would be easier to learn," Harry replied, loud enough for the whole room to hear him.

"What did you say to me?" Snape asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I said if you were even a _half_ competent teacher, I could learn something in here. As it is, you're completely _in_competent, and that makes it very difficult to brew a proper potion."

"Detention for a week, Potter, and fifty points from Gryffindor for your cheek."

"Only fifty, sir?" Harry asked, picking at his fingernails as though he didn't care what Snape was saying. "I thought you'd come up with new punishments by now. Honestly, detention is getting so _boring_! You're so predictable it's nearly frightening."

Snape's face was a very unpleasant red by now, causing Harry to smirk at him.

"You will learn _respect_, Potter," Snape hissed. "Detention for the rest of the year with me might help to instill that in you."

"A year!" Harry exclaimed, pretending to be surprised. "Are you insane? How am I supposed to do my homework?"

Snape sneered at him maliciously. "You might have thought of _that_ before you caused a scene in my class. Get out. You get zero marks for the day."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione kicked him under the desk from her place behind him. "Fine," he muttered, gathering his things and storming out of the room angrily. When the door closed behind him, he chuckled softly under his breath. He could just hear Hermione yelling at him after classes got out.

**NINE**

"Harry, what were you thinking?" Hermione raved in the common room that night. "I can't _believe_ you did that! Snape is going to skin you alive when you go down for detention!"

"Is it true, then?" Ron asked eagerly. "I wish I could have been there to see Snape's face!"

"Don't you _dare_ encourage him, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted. "He'll be expelled next if he doesn't learn to control his temper!" She turned to Harry. "I'd assign you detention myself if Snape hadn't done that already!"

"Save it, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "I already have to spend the rest of the year in Snape's presence. Don't you think that's punishment enough?"

"Don't you _dare _complain, Harry Potter!" Hermione snapped. "You brought this on yourself!"

Harry sighed in what he hoped was a defeated fashion. "I know," he said. "I'll hold my tongue in the future, I promise."

"Be sure that you do, or you'll be serving double detentions!" With that, Hermione stormed up to the girls' dorms, Harry snickering behind her.

"I can't believe you're not in a worse mood," Ron said next to him. "I'd be seriously depressed if _I_ had detention with Snape every night for the rest of the year."

Harry shrugged. "I'd better go before I'm late," he said, standing up and heading for the portrait hole. "See you."

"Bye mate," Ron replied with great gravity.

**TEN**

"Come in!" Severus barked when he heard the knock at his door. Potter entered, sitting in front of Severus' desk without waiting for an invitation. "That was a very brave display today, Potter," he said.

"It was all I could think of that would warrant this kind of punishment," Potter replied with a shrug.

"Hm," Severus replied. "It was adequate. Now, to work."

"Yes, sir," Potter said softly, obviously making an effort not to get on Severus' nerves.

"How much do you know about meditation?"

"Er, that it's called meditation."

Severus stared at the boy incredulously, wondering if he was actually serious. "I see," he said, running his finger lightly over his lip as he thought. He needed to start with the very basics to get Potter to an acceptable level of relaxation before they could make any progress with Occlumency. "Close your eyes."

Potter made a strange face before closing his eyes, as though wondering if Severus had gone mad.

"Breathe rhythmically," Severus instructed. "Concentrate on only your breathing."

Potter's breathing became cadenced.

"Picture something pleasant," Severus said softly. "A beach, a garden, the Quidditch pitch, it matters not."

Potter's face grew very relaxed as he did as he was instructed.

**ELEVEN**

Severus sighed as Potter left his quarters looking extremely relaxed. The meditation lesson had gone well, and Potter had instructions to practice at every free moment he found. He would begin with the actual Occlumency the next day. Severus moved to his desk to ponder the situation in which he currently found himself. He did not like Potter in the slightest, however he felt cheated whenever he thought about losing his only son to James Potter. He couldn't believe that Lily had had it in her to deceive him in a matter of such importance.

"I don't understand, Lily," he said to the empty office. "We loved each other so. How could you do this to me when you knew how much I wanted a child? I would have raised him. I would have treated him with the love and respect he deserved. Why couldn't you just tell me that I had a son? Was it so terrible that I left you to spy for Albus that you would take away my one hope for happiness?"

"Ya sound bitter," a woman said from the door. Severus looked up to see Airy leaning casually against the closed door, a sad expression upon her face.

"I hate it when you do that," he informed her, referring to her inhuman ability to enter a room without making a sound.

"I know," she said gently. "How are things with Harry?"

"Ambivalent," Severus deadpanned. "He is gutsy, I'll give him that."

"Oh? What did he do?"

"He talked back in class… rather forcefully, I might add."

"Why is that?"

"We needed an excuse for him to have detention every night so that I might continue tutoring him in Occlumency. I must say, Airy, that I find this entire situation extremely disconcerting. What made you keep this secret for so long after we lost Lily?"

"I'd promised her that I would never tell, so I did," Airy replied, a hint of regret entering her tone. "I never did it to hurt ya, Severus. Lily was the closest thing I had to family, so she was, and I felt that it would have been an insult to her memory to betray her trust in me." She was speaking at a more normal pace than she usually did, which indicated to Severus just the amount of despondency she felt at her circumstances.

"If that is the case, then why reveal the truth now? Why reveal it at all?"

"I knew how much ya always wanted children, Severus," Airy said, holding his gaze. "I felt so guilty for keeping this from ya for so long, and now I feel guilty for breaking Lily's confidence. I simply couldn't justify it anymore. Lily is gone, and both you and young Harry are left alone and unhappy. What would _you_ have done?"

"I would have said something before now," Severus replied icily. "I do not take to deception well, Airy. You were one of my closest friends. I trusted you as much as I trusted Lily, but I can't ignore that you kept something like this from me. I hurt, Airy, more than you could possibly know. I hurt every time I look at him because he still looks just like James. I'm not so dense as to not realize what that means."

"Give him time, Severus. You've given him no reason to accept this right off, and you know it. You've made every effort since he's come here to make him hate ya. Ya canna undo that with one night of civility, so ya can't."

Severus sighed, casting his eyes toward his meticulously clean desk. "You think I don't know that, Airy?" he asked sadly. "What would you have done in my place? I loved Lily with all of my being. I was extremely disheartened to learn that a man that I should have been able to consider an ally, at the very least, had impregnated her. It felt as though I had been cast aside without a second thought from either of them. Harry should have been mine. She should have told me the moment she knew that she was pregnant. Didn't she know that I would have turned away from spying the moment I knew about it?"

"Ya have to consider her point of view, Severus. She didn't understand why ya left her. She didn't understand why ya couldn't have stayed with her and spied for Albus at the same time. She was hurt, and confused when she married James. All she knew was that she couldn't let her son be seen as a bastard by the wizarding world. He needed a father to take his name from. She didn't think ya wanted to have that distinction any more."

"Then she didn't know me as well as I had hoped," Severus said sadly. "I will make my sincerest attempt to repair things between Harry and myself, but I am not a patient man. Perhaps it was better, in the end that he grew up away from me. It would have been a terrible disservice to him if he had grown to become the man that _I_ have become."

"Yer a very brave and noble man, Severus," Airy assured softly. "And I'm sorry to have wronged ya so. All I can hope is that the damage can be undone with time. Please be gentle with him, Severus. He's been through so much so fast, I'm afraid that he's not as stable as he pretends to be. He needs to know that his father cares for him, if only a little."

"You do not realize what you ask, Airy," Severus sighed. "It will take a great amount of effort from both sides. I do not know that he _wants_ to have a father if it means that I must be it. Perhaps he's happier believing that he's Potter's spawn. I know _I_ would be."

"Tha's nonsense, Severus. Don' sell yerself short."

"How did you get in here?" Severus asked suddenly. He'd been under the impression that Albus had altered the wards around the school to prevent Airy from entering.

"I'm not without my tricks, so I'm not," she replied evasively. "I needed to make sure that the both of ya are gonna be all right."

Severus nodded. "It says something about you that you would risk Albus' wrath by coming here, and I commend your bravery."

She shrugged. "Ya tend to lose some of your inhibitions when you've lost everything."

Severus nodded again, saddened for his friend. He'd known her since they were both first years at Hogwarts, and he couldn't think of anyone he would wish her fate on. "Ravenclaws and Slytherins have always been alike in that way," he said.

"So they have," she agreed. "Might I ask a favor of ya?"

"Of course."

"I'm wantin' to see Harry during the day, maybe this weekend. Could ya make me the potion?"

"If I recall correctly, you were quite the potion maker during your time here."

"You'll find that most people are reluctant to sell me the ingredients I need," she replied.

"I see," Severus said. "Give me a week, Airy. I'll have it for you next Friday."

She nodded her understanding. "I'll be goin' now. I haven't ate today, so I haven't. Sleep well, Severus."

"Have a good night, Airy," Severus replied. With that, she was gone, the slowly closing door the only indication that she had ever been there. Severus watched the closed door silently for some time, wondering if he could talk Albus into letting her visit openly once he'd given her the potion. If only Albus was as opened minded about her people as he was about everything else.

**TWELVE**

Airy moved through London like a shadow, none of the Muggles even noticing her as she passed. She was grateful for her magical abilities remaining intact after she'd turned. She didn't know what she would have done without at least her ability to Apparate.

She sighed, shaking her head to clear it. She didn't understand how she had remained so human for so long, but she sincerely hoped that it would always remain so. The situation with Severus and Harry weighed heavily on her heart; it had done since the day Lily had asked her to perform the spell. Sighing again, she pushed open the door of a small clinic.

The sterile scent of the place bombarded her immediately, reminding her why she never came here. Clinics were terrible, unnatural places that Airy liked to avoid whenever possible. She hated the necessity that had brought her here.

"May I help you?" the young man behind the desk asked. Airy groaned inwardly; _another_ bloody new receptionist.

"Is Dr. Kotzin in?" she asked in the most pleasant voice she knew. She ambled up to the reception desk, leaning against it just so, her ample cleavage showing clearly for the young man to see.

"Er, certainly," he said softly, forcing his eyes away from her chest. "Just a moment." He rose from his seat, disappearing into the heart of the clinic. A moment later, he came back, followed by a tall man with deep black hair, and dark stunning features.

"Arêthüsa," the man said pleasantly, coming around the desk to shake her hand. "It's been awhile. I hope everything is all right."

"I'm doin' fine, Scott," she replied, smiling warmly at her long time friend. "Ya got time fer a chat?"

"Of course," Scott replied, turning to lead her to his small office. "My last patient just left. I was getting ready to close up, in fact." He unlocked the office, turning on the lights as he made his way to his desk. The office was small, appearing very bright to Airy's sensitive eyes due to the florescent lighting. There was a large, immaculate oak desk near the window in the center of the room, two large bookcases to the right, and framed licenses and awards around the walls. She closed the door behind her, casting a silencing spell before seating herself in one of the large leather chairs. Scott sat in the seat next to her, fixing her with his curious gaze.

"How's business?" Airy asked lightly.

"Fine," Scott replied. "Is everything all right, Arêthüsa?"

"I've told ya to call me Airy, Scott," Airy admonished.

Scott waved away her irritation. "What brings you here? Has the Bank stopped working?"

"No, nothing like that," Airy replied. "I've just had a rough day, and I wanted to see an old friend."

Scott looked at her searchingly for a moment before saying, "What's happened today to make you so sad?"

"Am I really that easy to read?"

"Only if you know what to look for."

Airy sighed heavily. "I've been to see Severus," she said. "He never gets easier to deal with, no matter the time that's passed."

"Severus Snape? I was under the impression that you hadn't seen him for some years. Sixteen, if I'm not mistaken."

"No, yer not mistaken about that." She paused for a moment, thinking about all the years of pain she could have spared Severus and Harry if she'd only ignored her pesky sense of honor. "I've told him about Harry."

Scott's eyebrows rose in surprise, his dark eyes searching for some explanation in Airy's expression. "I thought you'd never break your promise, no matter what."

"I know that's what I said," Airy replied. "It became too much of a burden, so it did. I couldn't take it anymore, so I told them both the truth of things."

Scott whistled. "That couldn't have gone down well," he said.

Airy shook her head. "That's puttin' it lightly. Severus exploded at me something fierce. I've never seen him so angry."

"You _did_ hide his only son from him, Arêthüsa. Surely you expected it?"

"I did, but that doesn't make it sit easier with me. I hate what I've done. I hate that Lily put this on my shoulders. She knew I'd never say no to her, and she took advantage of it."

"She was frightened and all alone, Airy. What would you have done?"

"I certainly wish people would stop asking me that," Airy muttered, putting her face in her hands. "I don't know what I'd have done, Scott. I'll never have children, so I honestly can't say I'll ever find out."

"I understand, Airy," Scott said sympathetically. "You did the right thing in telling them. You never should have kept it secret for this long. It'll be better for all involved this way, Airy, you'll see."

Airy looked at her friend quietly. "Thank ya, Scott," she said after a moment. "Yer quiet council means more to me than you'll ever know."

Scott smiled his pleasant smile, patting Airy's arm gently. He rose to get a drink from a cabinet under his desk. "I'd offer you a drink, but well you know."

Airy smiled. Scott's antics always lightened her mood, no matter how down she felt. She wondered briefly why she'd waited so long to come see him. It was a shame he was a human though; he would have made a wonderful companion.

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to Katy for beta reading for me. She's such a big help, you'll never know. Hehehehe. I'd also like to explain why things are taking longer than they should. I have carpel tunnel pretty bad in my left wrist and it's been flaring up a lot recently, so typing has become difficult. I'm going to look into getting the Dragon Speech software, but funds are tight right now, so I don't know how long that will take. I thank you for your patience with me. Thanks also to…**

**Paula: I have 14 chapters of this written, but they need a bit of work before they can go up. After that, I still have to finish the story.**


	4. What the?

**Chapter Four**

**What the…?**

**ONE  
**

Harry sighed heavily as he closed his heavy Transfiguration tome. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying desperately to get the picture of Malfoy out of his head. He'd been thinking about the snobbish blonde ever since their encounter in the hallway all those weeks ago.

"Something bothering you, Potter?" Snape asked from his desk, not bothering to look up from the papers he was grading.

Harry watched him silently for a moment before deciding to take the plunge into deep, shark infested waters. "Yes, as a matter of fact," he said.

Snape put down his quill and looked at Harry curiously, waiting to see what Harry would say.

"All of this 'Potter' nonsense has got to stop," Harry said bluntly. "It's ridiculous and, frankly, I'm sick of it. You and I both know that I'm no more a Potter than you are. Can't you just call me Harry? That _is_ my proper name, you know."

"I can't very well go about the school calling you by your given name, though, can I?" Snape countered. "My cover would surely be blown, and then we'd both have a lot of trouble on our hands."

"I don't bloody well _care_ what you call me out there," Harry snapped, waving toward the door vaguely to indicate what he meant. "In here I'd feel much more at ease if you'd call me Harry."

"Oh?" Snape mused. "I suppose that is acceptable. You may call me Severus, if you wish. I don't expect you to call me 'Dad' or anything so presumptuous when you persist in looking like James Potter."

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Fine," he muttered. "Severus it is." Though this conversation wasn't the original cause of his discomfort, he wasn't about to let Snape know just what was. The last thing he needed was another lecture about constant vigilance around known adversaries.

"It is time to begin our lesson," Snape said abruptly, standing from his desk.

Harry sighed. "If we must," he muttered, standing to face Snape, his wand drawn.

"Have you been practicing?" Snape asked, pointing his wand at Harry.

"Yes," Harry grated. He had been practicing, though he wasn't sure if it would do him any good.

"Very well," Snape said. "Legilimens!"

The spell hit Harry in the chest, forcing him back a step. His vision went black for a moment before he forced it to clear again. He watched Snape for a moment before exclaiming, "Expelliarmus!" He did his best not to put too much power behind the spell because he didn't want to injure the man. Nonetheless, Snape was rocketed off his feet and into the wall behind him, his wand landing neatly in Harry's hand. Harry stared for a moment before coming to his senses and running to Snape's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked frantically. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean –"

"I'm fine," Snape interrupted, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up. He looked at Harry silently for a moment before saying, "That was good. Your spell work is strong. Let's do it again." He stood up and waved Harry back to the other side of the room after retrieving his wand.

Harry stood nervously, picturing an empty field of lush green grass, waiting for Snape to attack.

"Legilimens!" Snape exclaimed, sending the spell at Harry's chest again.

This time, Harry's vision went a little fuzzy, but didn't blank out all the way. He raised his wand, trying to use less power than he did before, and exclaimed, "Expelliarmus!" The spell hit Snape in the stomach and once again sent him flying into the wall. "Shit!" Harry cried, running to Snape's side again.

Snape sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his head again. "You're going to be very strong, Harry," he muttered, wincing as his fingers found a sore spot. "What's your magic going to be like when it gets stronger, I wonder?"

"Erm, I was holding back," Harry said, helping the man to his feet. "I didn't want to hurt you."

Snape stared at him, an inscrutable expression on his face. "You were holding back?"

Harry nodded, nibbling on his lower lip nervously.

"Dear Merlin," Snape muttered. "We must explore this new revelation."

Harry wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what Snape meant by 'explore', so he made his excuses and left the man's quarters through his office entrance. On his way out of the dungeons, he encountered the last person he wanted to see.

**TWO**

Draco waited patiently in one of the many unused classrooms in Snape's Potions corridor, watching for any sign that Potter was going to pass this way. Draco

had never particularly cared about the gender of the person with whom he happened to be sleeping at any given time, and so decided that if Potter wanted hostilities between them to end, then they'd just have to shag instead. Potter wasn't bad looking, after all, and Draco was willing to bet anything that the Golden Boy was a virgin.

After several moments of waiting, Potter finally emerged from Snape's office, walking with his head down and a look of great consternation on his face. Not for the first time, Draco found himself wondering just what Snape and Potter got up to in those detentions. As Potter passed the classroom, Draco reached out quickly and dragged the Gryffindor into the room, closing the door behind them.

Potter spun a bit when Draco released his sleeve; Draco supposed he must have used more force to pull Potter in than was strictly necessary.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked, staring at him through the gloom.

"Potter," Draco replied with a smirk.

A look rather reminiscent of disgust crossed Potter's features. "I thought we'd discussed this," he said coldly.

"Yes," Draco agreed. "I've been thinking about what you said."

Potter said nothing, which irritated Draco to no end.

"I've decided that we're going to fuck," he said bluntly when it was obvious that Potter was going to remain silent.

Potter's eyebrow went up, making Draco think that the boy was spending entirely too much time alone with Snape. "You have, have you?" Potter asked, rather coldly in Draco's opinion.

"Yes," he said simply.

"I don't have time for this," Potter said, moving toward the door. Draco got in front of him, intent on getting what he wanted. He figured that if they weren't fighting, fucking was the next reasonable step. Potter grabbed the front of Draco's robes and pushed him back forcefully so that his back was pressed painfully against the door, the knob digging into his hip. Potter wasn't quite as tall as he was, but he was frightening nonetheless.

"I don't know what you're playing at," Potter growled, "but I suggest that you stop because you are _seriously_ starting to get on my nerves."

It was something of an effort to put down his fear. "I'm not playing," he replied, forcibly keeping his voice level, though he was quaking inside. He'd never been on this side of Potter's temper before. Potter hadn't even been this angry when he'd been beating the living shit out of Draco at that Quidditch match the previous year.

"Explain," Potter said shortly.

"Well, you see, I'm having a rather bad start to my year," Draco began. "My housemates are all in rather bad moods, my father is in Azkaban and my mother has fallen into some kind of depression. I'm having difficulty explaining to myself. I figure, since it's your fault that Father is in Azkaban to begin with, you could do me the courtesy of helping to relieve some of my tension."

"Your father put _himself_ in Azkaban by becoming a Death Eater," Potter snarled, pressing Draco to the door still harder. "It's his own ruddy fault he's too stupid to think for himself. Don't you blame this shit on me."

"It occurs to me," Draco muttered, having rather more difficulty controlling his voice than before, "that you have some tension to relieve as well. It would be a win-win arrangement."

"Until you blacken my name all over this school," Potter grated, apparently losing a little more control of his temper.

"I won't."

"Oh, and I suppose I'm just supposed to believe you, am I?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

"Because you're a liar and a spineless coward, that's why."

"I have nothing to gain by claiming to have shagged you."

"No?"

"No. The Slytherins consider you beneath them. If I were to say I'd touched you, they'd consider me sullied. We both lose if I tell. Honestly, I'm in more danger than you are. You could tell just as easily as I could."

"Oh yes, that would go down well. 'Hey, Ron, Hermione. I was feeling down so I fucked Malfoy last night. That's okay with you, right?' Not bloody likely."

Draco stared silently for a long moment, wondering where the Potter he had tormented for five years had disappeared to. "Point taken," he said at last.

Potter was glaring into his eyes menacingly, presumably calculating the pros and cons of Draco's offer.

"Do you mind letting me down?" Draco asked when the pain in his hip became almost unbearable. "This doorknob is most uncomfortable." He immediately wished he had phrased his question differently because Potter simply let go and took a step back, leaving Draco to fall in an undignified heap on the floor.

"You're pathetic," Potter muttered anger still permeating his voice. "Get out of my way."

"You're stupid to refuse," Draco countered, standing as gracefully as he could. "You could do things with me that no respectable female would allow you to do."

Potter stared at him for a long moment, making Draco wonder what was going on in that brain of his.

**THREE**

Harry considered carefully. Malfoy seemed most sincere in his desire to have sex with Harry, which in itself was most strange. They hated each other. Why should they shag? Harry was thinking back to a certain book he'd found in Dudley's room over the summer and had subsequently stolen. The fact that Dudley had a book at all was strange enough, but this particular book could become most useful very fast; especially the chapter entitled 'Up Your Bum – Anal Sex'. Harry had read and reread the entire book over the summer. At the time, he'd thought some of the things people did to each other in the name of sex seemed rather… sick. Now, however, he was considering which things he could use (or purposefully screw up) to take his frustrations out on Malfoy's rather willing body. Losing his virginity to someone he despised didn't really bother him much. Nothing bothered him much any more. Still…

"What do you get out of this?" he asked at last.

Malfoy stared at him. "I've told you that already. I get to relieve my tensions."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What else do you get out of this?"

"What?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know you better than that."

"Well, I get to have the honor of knowing I fucked the Boy-Who-Lived."

"But you won't tell anyone." Harry was starting to get seriously annoyed again.

"I've already told you why that would be detrimental to my health."

"I don't believe you." Harry allowed his eyes to travel down the length of Malfoy's body, but he didn't see much. Malfoy was covered from neck to foot in his school robes.

"Believe what you want."

"It's not too dangerous for me, though," Harry went on.

"What do you mean?"

"Even if you _did_ tell, no one would believe you, and I'd just deny the whole thing."

"You're a terrible liar."

Harry felt his eyebrow go up again. He didn't know when this habit had started, but it had the desired effect. Malfoy shrank back just a little bit. "I don't think you know me well enough to make that determination."

Malfoy stood and stared at him mutely, presumably deciding whether this had been a good idea after all.

"What do you want?" Harry asked after a while.

"Right now?" Malfoy asked.

Harry nodded once.

"Just to fuck you."

Subtlety had never been Malfoy's strongest point.

"Right now," Harry said.

"Right now," Malfoy agreed.

"Just don't complain to me when you regret this later," Harry cautioned. "I won't care."

"I'm not going to regret it," Malfoy sneered.

Harry glanced at the dusty clock on the wall over Malfoy's head. It was still running and it was telling him that it was already well past curfew. No matter. Fucking Malfoy wouldn't take too long, without all of that pesky foreplay.

Harry advanced on Malfoy without another word, causing the blonde to back into the door again. Once Harry reached him, he grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes and ripped roughly, tearing the fabric and sending buttons flying in every direction. As he treated Malfoy's under-robe to the same treatment, he crushed their mouths together in a searing kiss that lit Harry's entire body on fire. The only kiss he'd ever shared with anyone else had been with Cho Chang, and it had been most dissatisfactory; nothing like this. Harry banished his own clothes with a flick of his wand, sending them to lay in a neat little pile on one of the dusty chairs.

"Lay down on the floor," Harry commanded.

Malfoy made an interesting keening sound deep in his throat, but he did as he was told. Harry leaned over the taught body, reveling in the firm muscles beneath his hands, and positioned his mouth at Malfoy's ear, one hand stroking the blonde gently.

"I'm going to fuck you into this floor," Harry muttered, bringing a whimper out of Malfoy. "I'm not going to prepare you. It's going to _hurt_, and you're going to _love_ it."

"Fuck, Potter," Malfoy groaned, shifting slightly under Harry.

Harry waited just long enough to cast a silencing charm on the room and a lubrication charm on himself and Malfoy before setting his wand aside. He left the door unlocked, just for the thrill of knowing that they might be caught at any moment. He began biting and sucking on Malfoy's chest, intent on leaving his mark. Malfoy might well regret his decision to become Harry's fuck toy. He lived up to his promise of making it hard and painful.

He collapsed on top of Malfoy when it was over and lay panting for a moment before shakily getting to his feet. He cast a cleaning charm over himself, got dressed and left the classroom without saying a word to Malfoy. Much to his surprise, he did feel much less wound up after such a magnificent shag. Perhaps Malfoy had a point after all.

Harry walked at a leisurely pace back to Gryffindor, despite the late hour. He didn't much care if he got caught out of bounds at that moment. If McGonagall asked what he'd been doing, he'd simply tell her that he'd been shagging Malfoy. The thought of the look on her face should he say such a thing to her brought a smirk to his face.

"Lithuania," he said when he reached the Fat Lady, rolling his eyes yet again at the ridiculous password. The portrait swung open and Harry crawled through the hole, hearing Ron and Hermione arguing on the other side. Once he reached the other side of the opening, the portrait closing behind him, he simply sat on the ledge of the hole and watched his mates, who had yet to notice him. They were standing in the center of the common room, very close together, Hermione facing toward the entrance, but not looking at it.

"We have to tell him, Ron!" Hermione was raging. "He's our best friend! How would you feel if it was Harry and me and we didn't tell you?"

"He'll just feel like a third wheel if we tell him!" Ron argued back. What Harry could see of his face and neck were very red, indicating that they'd been at it for some time. Harry found it something of a marvel that they hadn't woken the whole House by now.

"He'll feel like we don't care if we don't tell him!" Hermione returned. "I'm telling you, it'll just make him angry! It's bad enough that we've been dating this long without…" She broke off abruptly as her eyes drifted over Ron's shoulder and landed on Harry, who was still sitting hunched over in the portrait hole, watching them.

"What?" Ron asked turning to see what Hermione was looking at. When he saw Harry, his face went from red to white so fast that Harry found it amazing he was still standing.

"Hello," Harry said conversationally, though, upon reflection, this gave him a good excuse to stop talking to them without them wondering why. He'd decided a week ago that being friends with them was merely inviting their deaths. That wouldn't do, not at all.

"Harry," Hermione said, apparently the only one who could speak. "You're back really late. We were, erm, waiting for you."

"So I see," Harry replied. Judging by the worried looks they were giving him, he imagined he looked somewhat tired. It was amazing what a great shag could do to one's energy levels. He made no move to abandon his seat in the portrait hole, but instead began swinging his legs in a lazy fashion.

"Erm, how long have you been sitting there?" Hermione asked, glancing nervously at Ron. Ron, for his part, was still standing with his head turned, gaping at Harry.

"Long enough," Harry replied, still in a friendly tone.

"We were going to tell you," Hermione explained nervously.

"I gathered as much," Harry said.

"We're not trying to cut you out or anything," Hermione went on, still glancing at Ron, who had yet to close his mouth.

"Of course not," Harry said. Hermione seemed to find his lack of instigation more worrisome than if he had been yelling at them.

"Are you angry?" Hermione asked.

"Why should I be angry?" Harry asked in return. "It's not like my two best friends didn't trust me enough to tell me they were dating, is it? It's not like they've been keeping _secrets_ or anything."

Hermione paled significantly at this. "Harry, I tried to convince him to tell you," she rushed to explain. "We just didn't know how you'd react. We still want--"

"Save it," Harry interrupted, jumping down from the ledge at last. He regarded them coldly for a long moment, taking advantage of the skills Snape had been teaching him to carefully hide his emotions, which were terribly confused. He looked at Ron. "Do you remember fourth year?" he asked.

Ron blinked at this seeming change of subject. "Yeah," he said carefully, still staring with round, frightened looking eyes.

"Do you remember how angry you were because you'd thought that I'd put my name in the Goblet without telling you?"

"Yeah," Ron said, more carefully still.

"This is _much_ worse than that," Harry told him. "Good night." He walked toward the stairs to the boys' dorms without another word.

"Harry, hang on!" Ron cried, finally seeming to come out of his shock of seeing Harry there. "We can explain!"

Harry ignored him and proceeded to his dorm, feeling that he'd finally accomplished something useful this year. Malfoy had helped, really. If he hadn't taken the time to give Malfoy a quick shag, he wouldn't have heard Ron's and Hermione's argument, which in turn would have meant he still wouldn't have had a reason to drop them both.

"This is really bad," he heard Hermione say from the common room before he closed the door.

**FOUR**

Draco lay on the floor in the dusty classroom for some time, trying to recover his strength. Never in his life had he imagined that Potter would be such a good lay. He sat up to say as much, only to notice that Potter had gone.

"Bastard," he muttered, wincing as he stood up. His arse hurt something fierce, but it had been worth it. Draco was already planning his next rendezvous with Potter. He planned to be on top next time. If he was to be honest with himself, he'd wanted to be on top this time, but Potter had taken him by surprise when he'd advanced so suddenly without further argument. Draco had expected it to take much more convincing than that.

He cast a cleaning charm over himself, thinking that it was most un-Gryffindorish for Potter to have left without even offering to do it for him after buggering him so thoroughly. He'd have to get his revenge for that later. He grimaced when he noticed the state of his robes. Potter had been most enthusiastic, considering how vehemently he'd been protesting at the start of their encounter.

Draco took several moments to repair his robes, making sure they were perfect before bothering to put them back on. Once he was dressed, he meandered back to his common room, thinking about the hot shower waiting for him there. It was very convenient for him that, due to the lack of male students in his year, he had his own room and water closet. None of the other Houses had gotten so lucky. With only four male Slytherins in his year, each of them was entitled to their own room because the space wasn't needed for more students.

He stepped into his brightly lit water closet, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He turned to the full-length mirror he had placed behind the door and began to undress, rather fond of how he looked without his clothes on. He gasped when he saw his reflection this time. "Bastard!" he groused, more vehemently than before. He gently fingered the lightning bolt-shaped bruise Potter had left on his chest. The idiot may as well have left a sign that read 'Harry Potter was here'. Draco decided he'd have to get revenge for this too. It was a very good thing that Draco had his own water closet or else the whole of Slytherin would have known about the bruise in no time. He had no doubt that Potter had done it on purpose to make his life difficult.

"Potter, you moron," Draco muttered as he turned on the water for his shower. "I'll get you back for this! How the hell am I supposed to hide this from the Quidditch team?" Draco frowned in concentration as he stepped under the hot spray, thinking of the best concealment charm he knew to cover the pesky mark Potter had left on him. His eyes snapped open with this thought. Potter had basically claimed him with that bite.

"Damn him! I don't belong to him! I belong to no one! People belong to me, goddamn it! I'm Draco Malfoy!" He picked up his shampoo bottle and hurled it across the water closet, shattering his mirror by the door. "BASTARD!" he screamed angrily. Oh, Potter was so going to _pay_ for this!


	5. Argumentative

**Chapter Five**

**Argumentative**

**ONE **

Harry sat quietly in charms, ignoring Ron and Hermione to the best of his ability; that is to say, he was pretending they didn't exist. He couldn't say that he didn't miss them because he did, but he truly felt that things were better this way. His wonderful 'father' had been putting forth more of an effort, but he was still behaving like the quintessential greasy git. Harry certainly couldn't make himself feel more than ambivalent about the man, so he did his best not to be too insulting when they were together at night.

Ron turned in his seat to look at Harry, pleading silently with his eyes, as he'd been doing several times a day for a week. Harry pretended that he didn't see him.

"He hates us now, you know," Ron said to Hermione in a whisper. Unfortunately, their table was just close enough for Harry to hear everything they said to each other.

"He's just stewing," Hermione replied. Harry had to forcibly keep himself from rolling his eyes.

"I don't know, Hermione," Ron muttered. "Even in fourth year, he wasn't like this. He acts as though we're not even here."

"Just give him time, Ron," Hermione said, resting her hand on Ron's forearm. "He'll come around. We just need to give him time and not give up on him."

Ron sighed heavily. "If you say so, 'Mione."

Harry's eyebrow went up before he could stop it. 'Mione? Since when had Hermione had a nickname? She'd always been Hermione. When did she become 'Mione? He reminded himself that he didn't care about things like that anymore and turned his attention to practicing his charms.

**TWO**

"You're distracted," Snape reprimanded as Harry lowered his wand.

"I don't want to do this," Harry countered.

"This is important," Snape shot back.

"Why?"

"Legilimency is the other side of Occlumency. You can control either better if you know both. I want you to try harder."

"Dumbledore never said anything about learning Legilimency!"

"He didn't expect you to take to Occlumency so well. Because you have, he has asked me to move on to Legilimency."

"I don't want to do this!" Harry repeated.

"What do you have against learning this?" Snape sounded like he was losing his temper fast.

"It would just be one more thing for me to have in common with Voldemort! I don't want to know how to read people's minds!"

Snape lowered his wand at last, not even reprimanding Harry for using Voldemort's name. He stared silently, apparently considering what he should do about this. "What do you mean one more thing?" he asked after a long time.

Harry, who had gotten so good at hiding his emotions, started to tremble and didn't answer.

"Harry?" Snape asked, watching him closely, but making no move to come closer.

"Everything," Harry said at last, feeling rather deflated. "We were both supposed to be in Slytherin, except I made the Hat put me in Gryffindor. We both have dark hair. We're both strong wizards. We're both orphans—"

"You're not an orphan," Snape interrupted quietly, as though he hadn't meant to speak.

Harry swallowed thickly. He hadn't been thinking of Snape. He still didn't consider the man to be anything more than his professor. After a long silence he said, "I'm sorry."

Snape moved to his desk and sat down heavily without responding. "Do your homework," he said instead.

Harry nodded and sat down on Snape's sofa, which was made of an odd sort of suede that was very soft and comfortable. He removed his books, parchment, quill and ink from his pack and tried not to imagine what Snape could possibly be thinking of.

**THREE**

Severus was pretending to grade papers as Harry did his homework. He was doing his best to ignore Harry's comment about being an orphan. What had he been expecting? The boy only just found out he had a living father a little more than a month ago. Did Severus honestly think he'd have accepted everything so quickly? Harry had spent his entire life believing himself an orphan. Did Severus really expect a month and a half of private magic lessons to change the boy's mind? Stupid. Stupid! Still, hearing Harry say it aloud had sent a pain through Severus' heart that felt something like a sharp blade.

"Severus?" Harry's voice broke through his maudlin thoughts.

"Yes, Harry," he said absently, still staring blankly at the essay in front of him.

"Would you help me with this essay?" Harry asked tentatively.

Severus turned to look at his son, feeling somewhat surprised by the request. "Sure," he said, moving to sit next to Harry on the sofa. "What are you working on?" He was most displeased to hear that his voice still had a defeated sound about it.

"Defense," Harry replied.

"You need help with a Defense essay?" Severus asked surprised.

"Yeah."

"What is it on?"

"The Unforgivables."

"I was under the impression that you learned those in your fourth year."

"Yeah, but Crouch didn't really go into details about how they worked, just what they did. I'm supposed to explain the mechanics behind casting the Imperius Curse."

"You've had experience with that particular curse, have you not?"

"Throwing it off. I've never cast it before."

Severus sat back to think, wondering why the hell the teacher would want them to know the mechanics of casting the Imperius Curse. It didn't make sense. It was like the teacher _wanted_ the students to start casting it on each other. "I don't want you doing this essay."

Harry looked at him sharply. "Why not?"

"It's completely inappropriate. I shall speak to the headmaster about this assignment."

"I thought it was important to understand spells so that you could defend against them."

"The Unforgivables are different. You could understand Imperius all you want, but if you don't have the magical prowess, you will not be able to throw it. It takes a strong mind to throw that curse, not the understanding of how it was cast."

"I don't see what harm learning this could do."

"Let's assume that a student like Draco Malfoy does this assignment and understands it," Severus resisted the urge to add 'and I'm sure he does.' "He now has the knowledge needed to cast the spell. All he has to do is practice. He could use anything; a rat, a spider, Mrs. Norris, it matters not. What _does_ matter is that the spell becomes easier to do with each successful casting. Once he knows how to use it, there's nothing stopping him from putting any of the other students, or staff for that matter, under the spell. He would have learned how to use it here, at Hogwarts, from a teacher who was supposed to be protecting and teaching to protect, not teaching to harm. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. "So what should I do?" he asked after a moment.

Severus reached out and took the parchment from Harry's hands. "Leave it to me. Do your other work."

"Thanks, Severus," Harry said, watching Severus adjourn to his desk.

"Don't mention it."

**FOUR**

"I refuse to allow my son to do this assignment," Severus grated, slapping Harry's essay paper down on Albus' desk.

Albus picked up the parchment and read the heading. "This is his Defense assignment?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," Severus replied, sitting smoothly down in the blue, star spangled chair in front of Albus' desk. "He asked me to help him write it because he didn't understand the mechanics. I find it completely inappropriate to the curriculum of Hogwarts and I demand that the rest of the students be told to disregard it as well."

"I shall have to speak to Professor Fitzpatrick about his choice in assignments," Albus muttered, still looking at the parchment as though he expected it to answer all of his questions.

"And what about the students who are currently doing this assignment?" Severus asked.

"I shall instruct the Heads to speak to their sixth years about it," Albus replied, finally setting Harry's essay aside. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Severus nodded, rising to head back down to his quarters.

"How are things between you and Harry?" Albus asked behind him.

Severus turned and regarded the Headmaster shrewdly for a long moment before responding. "They are strained," he said.

"It will get easier," Albus assured him.

Severus nodded sharply before sweeping out of the office, his robes billowing out behind him.

**FIVE**

Harry looked up curiously as McGonagall entered the common room, straightening her hat as she straightened up. The common room became very quiet at the sight of their Head of House standing amongst them, many of them wondering why she was there.

"Sixth years, may I have your attention?" McGonagall said tartly, looking very annoyed about something. The common room slowly emptied out until only the sixth years remained, all of them watching McGonagall in trepidation.

"It has been brought to my attention that you have been assigned an inappropriate essay in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class," McGonagall announced.

Harry stared in surprise. When Snape had said he'd take care of it, somehow this isn't what Harry had been expecting.

"The headmaster has instructed me to inform you that you are not to do the essay assigned," McGonagall went on. "You have been given a different essay instead. Explain the effects and side effects of the Imperius Curse and why it is so devastating to its victims. You have until next Friday to complete the new essay. That is all."

The sixth years were so stunned that they simply stared at the portrait hole for almost a whole minute after McGonagall had gone. Suddenly, the sixth years broke out into discussion about this new development, alerting the other Gryffindors that McGonagall was gone.

"I wonder who told what the essay was about," Hermione said, sitting near Harry as though she didn't realize that he was ignoring her. "I thought the topic was a bit dodgy, but I assumed that Dumbledore must have approved of it if Fitzpatrick assigned it to us."

"You don't reckon Fitzpatrick is a Death Eater like that fake Moody was, do you?" Ron asked, sitting next to Hermione.

"Don't be stupid, Ron," Hermione scolded. "What are the chances of that happening again?"

"Pretty good, if you ask me," Ron replied. "Think about it, first year we had Quirrell, who had You-Know-Who sticking out of the back of his head; fourth year we had a Death Eater pretending to be Mad-Eye Moody, who just happened to be being held hostage in his own trunk; last year we had that hag Umbridge, who made everyone's lives absolute hell. Well, everyone but the Slytherins anyway. Why's it so impossible for Fitzpatrick to be like any of those?"

Hermione fell silent, staring at Ron incredulously. He'd never been able to make his point so well. Harry had to admit that Ron did have a point. More than half of their teachers had been seriously detrimental to their health, and they'd only really had one who hadn't been detrimental to their education. It was certainly possible.

"You know, Ron, you could be right," she said after a moment.

Ron beamed at her.

"Of course, he could have just thought that it would be good for us to know all about the Imperius Curse as well."

Ron's smile melted. "I suppose," he muttered.

"Well, it's too late to start on that essay tonight," Hermione stated, standing up and stretching her back. "I'm going to bed. Good night, you two." She disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dorms, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

"She just likes to be right," Ron said, watching her go. "She hates it when one of us are right."

Harry, who was finding it rather difficult to ignore Ron when he was sitting so close, decided it would be best to say something. "She was talking to you. I didn't say anything."

"Oh, come off it," Ron snapped. "She was talking to both of us. I think you're being a complete prat about this whole thing."

"Do you?" Harry asked, looking up at Ron curiously. He sat back in his armchair, favoring Ron with his coldest look. "What would you have done?"

"I would have heard us out, at the very least."

"Really? I seem to remember that you wouldn't talk to me at all in fourth year. Have you grown up then? Are you more mature than I am now? I suppose you can look into my heart and know just what I think about all of this, yes?"

"No, but you could tell me."

"I imagine that would take all night, and I'm rather tired right now. Besides, I've no wish to speak to you. I've wasted enough time at it as it is. Good night." He left the common room, thinking that it only got harder to ignore. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed, glad that Snape had gotten what he'd wanted. He started deep breathing exercises and was soon relaxed and falling asleep with a clear head. He didn't dream.

**SIX **

Draco's irritation with Potter was growing by the day. First, he walks away without a word, he marks Draco with his bloody lightning bolt, as though it wasn't obvious who had done it, and now he'd been avoiding Draco for a week.

After they'd shagged, Draco had naturally assumed that Potter would come looking for him right away. Everyone Draco shagged came around looking for seconds. Potter just had to be the exception. He was always the exception. Bloody Potter, he was going to pay for treating Draco like some common whore. Draco had plans for Potter. That green-eyed wretch would be begging him for mercy by the time he was finished.

Draco's plan started with the instigation of another meeting one night after one of Potter's detentions. The problem was when. Potter's detentions never seemed to end at the same time every night. Some nights he left early, some nights he didn't seem to leave at all, though Draco supposed he was just leaving very late.

Once he had Potter cornered, he planned to take complete advantage of the Golden Boy's position. Their last encounter was just a fluke because Draco hadn't been expecting Potter to react the way he had. No, this time, Draco knew what was coming and he was ready. No talking this time. No, Draco was just going to pounce and ravish that delectable Gryffindor's body. He hadn't expected Potter to look so good without his clothes on. It was a shame what robes could hide, though Draco didn't want anyone else to see what he had the privilege of seeing. He was going to show Potter what was what.

He decided, since it would be a little while before Potter showed up for his detention that it wouldn't hurt to have a little chat with Professor Snape. Potter bashing always put Draco in a good mood.

He moved to the Blank Bit of Wall, ready for a good conversation with his favorite teacher. As he moved down the darkened corridor, he realized there was a light on in Professor Snape's office. '_He must be grading papers_,' Draco thought. As he lifted his hand to knock however, he heard raised voices on the other side.

"I don't know what game you're playing, Airy, but you had better stop," Professor Snape's voice growled, much the same way Potter had growled at Draco.

"I'm not playin' games!" a woman, presumably Airy, shouted. "Yer bein' argumentative, yeh are, and I'm sick of it!"

"You walk in here after sixteen years and expect that I'll just listen to you?" Snape yelled back. "You took everything from me! What makes you expect me to trust you? YOU TOOK MY SON!"

Draco's eyes became very round. He hadn't been aware that Snape _had_ a son. He'd never even heard of Snape having a _woman_, much less a _son_.

"Oh, it's that old argument again!" Airy groused angrily. "I've heard it! I don't care to hear it again! It's no excuse!"

"I'm doing the best I can! You think this is easy for me? You think I enjoy looking at him and knowing he doesn't know me? I'm not perfect! I need time just as much as he does!"

Silence descended inside the office. Draco was straining to hear if they'd speak again, when a voice on his right nearly made him cry out in surprise.

"You know, eavesdropping is a very bad habit," Potter said in a conversational tone, reaching past Draco and knocking loudly on the office door.

Draco was ready with a retort when the door opened to reveal a somewhat blotchy Professor Snape. "Potter!" he ground out. "You're late! Get in here!"

Potter brushed passed Draco into the office. "Hey, Arêthüsa," he said to the woman, who was very pale with long red hair and large brown eyes. She looked very young to be arguing with Snape about children.

"All righ', Harry?" she replied, glaring angrily at Snape.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" Snape snarled at Draco, who was very interested to find out how this woman knew both Potter _and_ Snape.

"Er, I wanted to speak with you, sir," Draco replied, turning his gaze to Snape, whose complexion was starting to even out.

"Can't it wait?" Snape asked, his voice still very impatient. "I'm busy."

"Oh, yes sir," Draco replied. "It wasn't important. I'll see you in class."

Snape slammed the door in his face without further comment, which was most unusual. Draco wondered what was going on.

**SEVEN**

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked Arêthüsa, who was glaring at Snape as though he'd just killed her best friend.

"Just came to talk to yer da, Harry," she replied, not taking her eyes off of Snape.

"Talk indeed," Snape groused, moving to his desk and dropping into the seat. "I'll have you know, Airy, that Harry and I have been getting along fine, even if it has been a bit slow. You needn't worry so much, and I'll thank you to keep your unfounded accusations to yourself."

Arêthüsa snorted inelegantly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Have yeh bothered to get to know him, eh?" she asked.

Snape glared angrily back.

Harry found this whole argument rather amusing. "Oh, we've been doing all right," Harry replied for his father. "What do you expect? It's only been a few weeks. We have sixteen years to make up for, after all."

"The point I have been _attempting_ to make for the last quarter hour," Snape ground out. "You are entirely too presumptuous for your own good, woman! Just leave us to do things our own way, why don't you?"

"Because yer men," Arêthüsa replied as though this should have been obvious. "If I left ya to yer own devices, you'd kill each other. Yeh need a woman's input." She flashed a smirk worthy of Snape himself, making Harry smile a bit.

"Why don't you leave us to it?" Snape asked sullenly, as though he'd just been reprimanded by his mother. "We have things to do, you know."

"I think I'll stick around, thanks," Arêthüsa said. "See how it goes." She winked at Harry and disappeared through the door that connected Snape's rooms to his office.

"Insufferable woman," Snape muttered, standing up to follow her.

"I don't know," Harry said, falling into step behind Snape. "She seems all right to me."

"You're sixteen," Snape replied. "You can't make a proper assessment at that age."

Harry smiled, suppressing the laugh he felt trying to escape. "Are we working on defense this evening, or should I do my homework?"

"Whatever you like," Snape said distractedly, sitting behind his desk and glaring at the back of Arêthüsa's head. She'd seated herself on Snape's sofa and was busy flipping through one of his potions magazines.

"Don't mind me," she said now, turning a page. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"Oh yes," Snape grumbled. "You'll just sit silently, I expect."

Harry was hard pressed not to burst out laughing. He'd never seen this petulant side of Snape before.

"I think I'll do my homework," Harry said, intent on staying out of the way of Snape's temper.

"Fine," Snape said, setting to work on his grading.

Harry, chuckling under his breath, sat next to Arêthüsa on the couch and got out his assignments.

"Don't mind him, Harry," Arêthüsa said when he was all set up to work. "He's always been like this."

"Like what?" Snape growled behind her.

"Whiny," Arêthüsa replied unabashedly.

Harry turned to his book, trying desperately not to laugh.

"I am not _whiny_," Snape groused.

"Yes yeh are, but I like yeh that way," Arêthüsa said.

"Stop teasing him, Arêthüsa," Harry said in Snape's defense, mostly because he thought he might crack a rib soon.

"Call me Airy," she said, flipping another page. "Everyone does."

"Okay," Harry said with a smile. "I really have to do this homework now."

Airy looked over. "Ooo, Transfiguration," she said enthusiastically. "What are yeh doin'? Maybe I can—"

"You will allow him to do his assignment on his own, Airy," Snape interrupted. "He won't learn if you do it for him."

"Yes, yes, Severus," Airy replied with a scowl, turning back to her magazine.

"Must you be here?" Snape asked.

"No."

"Then why are you?"

"Want to be, don't I?"

"_Why_?"

"Well, you're just so _charmin'_, Severus. I can't help myself."

Snape growled low in his throat, but didn't say anything. Harry had a strong suspicion that Airy was staying so that Harry wouldn't be submitted to the full brunt of Snape's temper. He was glad for it: _very_ glad.

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to Katy for beta reading for me. Thanks also to...**

**Megan: Harry will eventually accept Snape, but I didn't want it to be sudden, like in so many other fics. He has to have good reason, I think. We'll just need to be patient. Hehehehe**


	6. Getting to Know You

**Chapter Six**

**Getting to Know You **

**ONE**

Severus was not in a good mood. Airy had insisted on staying for his entire visit with Harry and had raised her eyebrows disapprovingly when Severus had suggested they practice Legilimency. After Harry had gone she'd said, "You know, teaching him Legilimency isn't the best way to build a relationship."

She'd left without even giving Severus the proper amount of time to retort.

Severus' mood wasn't due to what she'd said, no, he was in a bad mood because he knew that she was right. Damn her. He frowned as he marked out an entire paragraph on some unsuspecting Hufflepuff's paper, writing a scathing remark next to it. He smirked in satisfaction as he looked at the marring red line on the parchment. Hufflepuff torture always made him feel better. He continued through the essay, slaughtering everything he came across and scribbled a large 'D' at the top when he was finished. Feeling much better than when he'd started, he went to shower before turning in for the night. Severus watched the next night as Harry flew through his homework assignments, not asking any questions at all. As Harry closed his book, rolled up his latest essay, and reached for another book, Severus interrupted him.

"Come here, Harry," he said

Harry gave him a very curious look. "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked. Severus couldn't help but notice that Harry tended to avoid calling him by his name. Sometimes it couldn't be helped, but most times Harry referred to him as 'sir'.

"I just want to talk," Severus replied. "Come here."

Harry frowned before putting his things away and moving to sit with Severus in front of his desk. "Yes, sir?" he asked once he was seated.

"Don't look so nervous, Harry," Severus said. "I just want to chat."

"What about?"

"You. I seem to notice that, for all the time we spend together, I know next to nothing about you."

"What d'you want to know?"

Severus sat back in his chair, regarding Harry quietly for a moment. "Well, what about girls?"

"What about them?"

Severus had to forcibly keep himself from scowling. The boy was being deliberately obtuse. "Are you involved with any?" he asked at last.

"No."

"Have you ever been?" Severus found it difficult to believe that a boy like Harry, who was handsome, famous, modest, and a plethora of other things, would have trouble finding a girl to date.

"Yeah, I was seeing Cho for a little while," Harry replied.

"Chang?" Severus asked, surprised. "That little tart from Ravenclaw?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "Yeah, that little tart from Ravenclaw."

"What happened with that?"

"Oh, well Cho was still kind of… _mourning_ about Cedric. I took her to Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day last year, our first date, you know? Well, Hermione had asked me that morning to meet her at the Three Broomsticks around lunchtime, but she didn't say why. She told me to bring Cho along, but when I mentioned it, Cho blew up at me."

Severus chuckled lightly. "Go on," he said when Harry scowled darkly at him.

"Well, she started talking about Cedric. She wanted to know if he'd mentioned her before he died. I didn't much feel like talking about him and what happened the night he died and then she said that she'd _needed_ to talk about it, and that I should _need_ the same thing. She stormed out of the tea shop after that."

"Valentine's Day," Severus said. "Wasn't that the day you did that interview with Rita Skeeter for The Quibbler?"

"Er, yeah," Harry replied, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "That was why Hermione wanted me to meet her, actually. She'd made a… _deal_ with Rita to do the interview, except I didn't know about it until I got there. When that interview came out, Cho apologized for being such a flake, but we didn't get back together."

"She called herself a flake, did she?" Severus asked amused.

"Well, not in so many words," Harry replied. "That's what she meant though."

"Aren't there any other girls in Hogwarts you have your eye on?"

"Not really. I'm not much interested in dating right now."

"Why not?"

"There's too much going on right now for me to think about that. I'll worry about dating when I'm sure that the world isn't going to end."

Severus was silent, watching Harry quietly, wondering just what that boy thought about on a day-to-day basis. He was certain that it wasn't about girls or his homework.

"What about you?" Harry asked, braking into Severus' musing.

"What about me?"

"Are there any women in your life?" Harry asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"No," Severus replied. "I haven't been with anyone since your mother."

Harry sobered considerably. "When did you decide that you wanted to go out with her?" he asked gently.

Severus thought carefully, determined to remember every detail perfectly. "She asked me, actually."

"Really?"

Severus chuckled at the memory of it. "Yes. She came up to me during break just after the beginning of our seventh year and said, 'Severus Snape, I know you like me, and I like you back! If you don't ask me out soon, I'm just going to have to find someone with a little more guts!' She stormed away from me without even waiting for my reply, and me, sitting on the grass under that oak by the lake, staring after her incredulously. I asked her to go into Hogsmeade with me the very next day."

"What about Airy? How long have you known her?"

"Airy was in my year, right along with Lily and the rest. She was in Ravenclaw as well, Lily's best friend in the world. You couldn't be friends with Lily without also being friends with Airy. She was much the same then as she is now, talking a million words a minute with high ideals and little concern for rules. She and I became rather close because, while she was wonderful at every other subject, she was terrible in Defense. I tutored her while Lily tutored me in Transfiguration."

"That was her best subject, right?" Harry asked eagerly. Severus had never thought about it before, but now he realized that Harry didn't have many people who could tell him stories about his mother.

"Yes, that and Charms. She was much like your friend Miss Granger."

"You mean she could learn to do a spell in one lesson?"

Severus nodded. "Very much so. She was good at everything and she made it a point to help people who couldn't grasp things as easily as she could. She had an amazing memory as well. She could read something in a book once and remember it word for word a month later."

"Hermione does that," Harry muttered.

Severus fell into silence, his reminiscent smile slipping off of his face as his loneliness returned full force.

"You really did love her, didn't you?" Harry asked softly, a note of awe entering his voice.

"Very much," Severus replied, tilting his chair back a little and staring at the ceiling. "Very much," he repeated quietly, remembering Lily's bright smile and her vibrant eyes. Looking back at his son, he saw those very eyes watching him sadly.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean—"

"Nonsense," Severus waved him off. "It's good for you to hear about your mother, and there are very few people who can tell you. I like remembering her this way."

A very small smile touched Harry's lips, but it was enough; it reached his eyes, if only for a moment.

"How did you meet?" Harry asked after a moment.

"On the platform, waiting to get on the train," Severus replied. "My parents were lecturing me about staying away from 'Mudbloods' and 'filth', and cautioning me to keep my nose clean and not let on how much Dark Magic I already knew. They told me that I had to bring honor to the Snape name… you know, all of that pureblood nonsense. I got distracted while they were speaking with me because I saw Lily pass by, all alone and looking quite nervous. I knew at once that she was Muggleborn, but she was so beautiful, even at eleven. I wanted to know her, but I knew that my parents would be angry if I did.

"When I got on the train, it was almost eleven o'clock, so most of the compartments were already full. I kept looking until I'd reached almost the very back of the last car and opened the door to have a peek. Lily was sitting there by herself, looking out of the window wistfully, a tiny little owl clutched in her hand. I asked her if I could sit with her and she agreed."

"So you didn't mind that she was Muggleborn?" Harry asked.

"I didn't mind, no, but I knew my parents would skin me alive if they found out. I made it a point not to speak to her unless absolutely necessary. She, on the other hand, made it a point to become my friend. It was about half way through our second year when she finally lost her patience with me.

" 'You're not what you're pretending to be,' she said to me, with that impatient air that is so unique to women."

Harry snorted his agreement.

Severus favored him with an indulgent smile and went on. " 'What would you know about it, Mudblood?' I asked her. Her eyes became fierce and she slapped me; hard. I couldn't believe that she'd done that. I stared at her in utter shock for a long time.

" 'I'm tired of you behaving like a complete idiot,' she informed me, crossing her arms over her chest. It amazes me how well I remember that conversation. Anyway, after she hit me, she said, 'I happen to know for a fact that you're a decent human being under there, even if you insist on pretending that you're scum. From this moment on, you're going to be civilized around me, and we are going to get along, do you understand?' Needless to say, I was rather taken aback, but in the end, I did what she asked.

"I started seeking her out for homework help and such, even though I really didn't need it much, except perhaps in Transfiguration, by far my worst subject. Naturally, I had to make sure that the rest of the school didn't find out about my budding relationship with Lily, because if they did it would surely have gotten back to my parents. I have no doubt that they would have pulled me out of Hogwarts in a heartbeat if they'd thought that I was making friends with Muggleborns. I explained things to her, and was rather surprised when she understood. She said she had a few friends in Gryffindor who could help us cover our friendship.

"I was very reluctant to allow James and his friends to help us, as we had been on the wrong side of each other since the first moment we met. Lily arranged for us to meet her in the Room of Requirement, and we came to an understanding, though Lily tried vainly to make them stop calling me 'Snivellus'. I never much liked James and his bunch, but I was grateful, to a degree, for what they were doing for us. I was rather jealous of James' relationship with Lily, which he could flaunt openly through the school while I had to hide in the shadows, but Lily assured me that she was no closer to him than she was to me. By the end of our career at Hogwarts, I considered James and the rest of them to be my allies. Lily and I had plans to marry, but Albus approached me two years after we'd all graduated and asked me to join the Death Eaters and become his spy. He said that our side was in desperate need of inside information if we wanted to even have a chance to defeat the Dark Lord. He convinced me that in order to protect Lily, I had to leave her. When I told her what was happening, I tried my best to explain things clearly and to let her know that I would return for her after the war was over, but now I think perhaps she didn't understand. I never knew she was pregnant. When she married James, a mere two weeks after I'd left her, I felt as though she'd betrayed me. In my mind, I concocted a scenario in which she and James had been fooling around behind my back for years. It was the only explanation that made any sense to me."

"And that's why you hated me so much from the start," Harry said, staring atSeverus with wide, innocent eyes. "You thought that I was James' son, the result of Lily's affair with him. I was the ultimate betrayal."

Severus felt saddened that Harry could understand it so easily at sixteen. It simply wasn't fair that the boy had had to grow up so fast. He nodded in response to Harry's question.

"That's deep," Harry muttered.

"Now you know my life story," Severus said. "Tell me how you became friends with the insufferable duo of Granger and Weasley."

"Well," Harry said, somewhat nervously in Severus' opinion. "I never really had any friends before I came to Hogwarts."

"Why ever not?" Severus asked.

"Oh, well, my cousin Dudley didn't much like me. He was something of a bully, so all the other kids were afraid to talk to me in case Dudley decided to beat them up for it. Anyway, when I was on the train, Ron came to sit with me. We started talking and we were friends pretty much right away."

"And what about Miss Granger?"

"Ron and I didn't much like Hermione when we first met her. We thought the same thing you did; she was an 'insufferable know-it-all', as you put it. Ron had said something bad about her on Halloween and she heard him say it. We didn't see her for the rest of the day, and that night at the feast, we heard Parvati saying that Hermione'd been in the loo crying all afternoon. When Quirrell came and said there was a troll in the dungeons, we started to follow the rest of the Gryffindors to the Tower, but then I remembered that Hermione didn't know about the troll, so Ron and I went looking for her.

"After she lied to you and Professor McGonagall about going to find the troll, solely to get us out of trouble, she became part of the group. I mean, how can you dislike someone who got you out of trouble that way?"

"So she didn't go looking for the troll after all," Severus mused. "I always thought that was a dodgy story."

Harry chuckled. "Ron and I couldn't believe she'd told a downright lie to three teachers. It was amazing. She was more lax about breaking rules after that, though. I think Ron and I had a bad influence on her."

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "I assume she was the one who set my robes on fire at the Quidditch match?"

Harry blushed just a bit. "Well, she thought you were jinxing my broom," he defended. "Luckily, she knocked Quirrell over in her rush to get to you."

"Now I see why she went to Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. I've always wondered about that." Harry smiled again.

As Severus said good night to his son, some time later, he felt that he'd accomplished something. He'd gotten Harry to smile twice, and both smiles had reached those emerald eyes. Severus was hard pressed to remember the last time he'd seen a real smile on that child's face.

**TWO**

Harry felt considerably warmer toward Snape after their long conversation. He understood now that it was just as difficult for Snape as it was for him and it made him think of the man more as a human being. He smiled, remembering bits of the conversation, particularly the parts where Snape had been speaking of his mother in such a reverent tone, as though he considered her something of a deity.

"You look in a good mood," Ron commented when Harry entered the common room. He must have been waiting for Harry to get back because it was well past midnight.

Harry scowled darkly at his friend and moved up the stairs without a word. He thought as he fell asleep _'Perhaps there's hope for us yet. He's really not so bad, Snape.'_

**THREE**

Harry had a new outlook. It was rather amazing what you could learn about a person in just one conversation. He never thought that he'd actually find himself feeling something other than loathing for Snape, but now he found that he was starting to like the man. Granted, he still didn't see him as a father figure, but he was one step closer.

Malfoy was still watching him like a hawk, and Harry thought perhaps he should get to know that Slytherin too. After all, he disliked Malfoy based solely on one event. Well, several events that strongly resembled that first, actually, but he thought perhaps none of the subsequent events would have occurred without that first one. Maybe Malfoy was more than just a great shag. Of course, he doubted it, but it didn't hurt to find out. It wasn't like he'd be disappointed if Malfoy turned out to be just as stupid as he presented himself. He decided that if Malfoy wanted another meeting, he'd just go ahead and give him one.

**FOUR**

"Harry, I'm sorry, but I have an emergency to deal with," Snape said as he ushered Harry into his quarters. "You'll just have to do your homework tonight."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, watching Snape disappear through a door, which he'd, informed Harry led to his private potions lab, though he'd forbidden Harry from going in there. Snape left the door open a crack, just in case Harry needed him, but Harry felt he could do his homework fine on his own. All of the meditation Snape had taught him made it easier for him to concentrate in his classes, which in turn made it easier to understand the material. After about two hours, he'd run out of work to do. He moved to the slightly opened door of Snape's lab and entered quietly to find Snape stirring a potion slowly, a look of distress upon his face.

"Sir?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Harry?" Snape replied, not looking away from his brewing.

"I'm done with my homework," Harry informed him. "I'll just head back up to Gryffindor now."

"Have a good night, Harry," Snape said.

"You too, sir," Harry muttered. He left the room quietly, not wanting to disrupt Snape from his brewing. Whatever was going on, it seemed fairly important. He walked purposefully near the left wall of the corridor, knowing that Malfoy would be waiting for him to pass, hoping he passed close enough to pull into the room. He didn't know why he'd been avoiding Malfoy like the plague since their little tryst, but he felt that it was time to give the blonde what he wanted… in return for something of course. So it wasn't with any surprise that he found himself being pulled into the old, dusty unused classroom once again.

Malfoy didn't even wait for him to get his bearings; as soon as the door closed, Malfoy pounced, crushing their mouths together in a searing kiss. Harry responded briefly before pushing Malfoy away from him.

"Do you realize, Malfoy," Harry said without giving the blonde a chance to protest, "that we know next to nothing about one another?"

"So what?" Malfoy asked, sounding rather put out. "What does that have to do with shagging?"

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You really have no depth, do you?" he said.

"Not really," Malfoy replied with a shrug. "I just want to fuck you into the floor."

Harry's eyebrow went up. "You can just get that idea out of your head right now," he said.

"Why?"

"Because you're not fucking me until I know more about you."

"Well, I must say this was a bloody waste of my time."

"I never said anything about not fucking you."

"What the bloody difference is there?"

"It makes a difference to me." Harry didn't care one way or the other, but he felt that this was his trump card. Besides, he liked the idea of dominating the insufferable git. Without further ado, he jumped Malfoy, pinning him to the wall and treating his robes to the same treatment they'd gotten in their last encounter. He'd been studying Dudley's book and he'd decided that he was going to try a few tricks he'd read in the chapter Oral Sex: Popsicles and Penises. He'd been wondering for a while now what a penis would feel like in his mouth. Since Malfoy was so obviously willing, Harry decided to find out. Besides, Malfoy's was such a magnificent specimen of male endowment, how could he resist?

"Spirits, you're an animal, Potter," Malfoy grunted as Harry shoved him roughly against the wall.

Harry leaned in close, whispering in Malfoy's ear, "I'm going to make you beg before this night is over."

"You wish," Malfoy rasped.

Harry smirked before biting down on Malfoy's earlobe, causing the blonde to cry out in surprise. Harry smirked, traveling down Malfoy's body until he was kneeling between his legs. Harry roughly pulled Malfoy's hardening penis out straight and held it gently, studying it with the careful eyes of a botany student inspecting some new species of plant life. He teased the blonde for a bit, just to see what would happen.

"Stop fucking around, Potter," Malfoy gasped above him.

Harry smirked again, but didn't speed his pace. He was intent on making Malfoy beg, and he wasn't going to do anything but tease until he got what he wanted. He suddenly got an idea that nearly made him chuckle with sadistic glee. Let Malfoy believe that Harry wasn't going to make him beg. He went to work enthusiastically.

"Fuck, that's good," Malfoy cried above him, his long tapered fingers tangling in Harry's hair.

It was fast work, bringing Malfoy to his climax, the blonde's fingers tangling painfully in his hair.

**FIVE**

Draco moaned throatily as he tasted himself on Potter's tongue, fully aware that Potter wasn't done with him yet. After all, Potter had mentioned fucking him into the floor, and while that hadn't been his original plan when he'd pulled Potter into the classroom, it was sounding better and better. He'd never expected Potter to be so damned sadistic, but now that he knew, he liked it.

He was vaguely aware of Potter biting his neck, but the mixed sensations of intense pleasure and subtle pain were driving away his ability to protest. All thoughts of revenge fled quickly when he'd realized that Potter intended to give him a blowjob, and a spectacular blowjob it had been. He moaned loudly as suddenly he felt Potter's naked flesh pressed tightly against him.

Harry as predicted, did have Draco begging by the end of it all.

"You just have to be bloody perfect at everything, don't you?" Draco asked, feeling more exhausted and sated than he ever had in his life.

"Not everything," Potter replied, moving to his pile of clothes in the corner. He muttered a cleaning spell and quickly got dressed, moving to the door silently.

"I never took you for such a complete arsehole, Potter," Draco muttered, standing up, feeling rather sore, but very satisfied.

Potter froze with his hand on the doorknob. He muttered a string of spells, after which Draco found himself cleaned and dressed, his robes mended perfectly. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Potter disappeared through the door. Draco stared in amazement, wondering just what the hell Potter thought he was playing at. Moving slowly due to his aching body, Draco left the classroom, looking in the direction in which Potter had gone before moving down the corridor to his own dormitory. Potter was a mystery. Perhaps his idea of getting to know one another had some merit after all.

* * *

**Author's Note: First off, I'd like to take this moment to apologize for the long wait on this chapter. Real life is totally messing with me right now. I shall, however, attempt to make the updates come more quickly and stop slacking off. I'm on vacation until Friday, so my wrists are doing a bit better this week. Perhaps we shall see some new stuff, though I make no promises. Many thanks to Katy for her beta reading skills, making this nice and legible for all you nice readers out there. Thanks also to…**

**Bananagirl: You're most welcome.**

**Pia: You will definitely enjoy this story with those sentiments, and that's all I'm going to say about that.**


	7. Forgiven

**Chapter Seven **

**Forgiven**

**ONE**

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying vainly to keep from having to go up to his dorm to sleep. Ron had been getting steadily worse as the weeks passed, and now that the Yule holiday was upon them, Ron was attempting to convince Harry to go with him to the Burrow. The boy simply wouldn't take no for an answer. "Damn it," Harry muttered under his breath.

Just when he thought things couldn't get worse, Hermione plopped down in the armchair next to him. "We need to talk," she said without preamble.

"I'm not speaking to you," Harry replied, rubbing his eyes more vigorously. Perhaps he should have gone up to bed after all.

"Well, I don't care," Hermione snapped. "This isn't about you and me, or even Ron."

Harry finally looked at her, his eyes wary. "What then?" he asked carefully.

"Something's going on with you, Harry," Hermione said. "You don't want to be friends with us anymore. Fine, but I really don't think that your schoolwork should have to suffer because of whatever's bothering you."

Harry stared at her incredulously. His grades were better than they'd ever been. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Oh, you think just because you've been ignoring me that I don't still notice what you do and don't do?"

Harry just watched her silently, waiting for her to go on.

"You haven't done a stitch of homework all term," Hermione informed him, crossing her arms over her chest in satisfaction. "You're going to fail if you don't start studying. We have N.E.W.T.s next year, you know."

"Gods, Hermione, get off it," Harry muttered. "Just because you don't _see_ me doing my homework doesn't mean it's not getting done. If you haven't noticed, I'm now second in the class. My grades are better than they've ever been, and that's without your wheedling me every moment you get."

Hermione was silent for a long moment before she did the one thing that could have weakened Harry's resolve: she burst into tears.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Oh, come on, don't do that."

"I just w-want us t-to be f-f-friends again!" Hermione wailed miserably. "I t-tried to g-get Ron to t-tell you the truth! H-he wouldn't l-l-listen to me, a-and now you ha-hate us, and I c-c-c-can't stand it!"

"Hermione, stop crying!" Harry gasped in a panic.

"W-we were afraid of w-what you w-would say!" Hermione went on as though she hadn't heard his plea. "R-R-Ron thought t-t-that you'd be an-an-angry with us! He d-d-didn't w-w-want y-y-you to f-f-feel like a third w-w-wheel! And after l-l-l-last year w-w-when you got a-a-angry so easily, w-w-we d-d-didn't know what to expect!"

Harry couldn't take it anymore. He stood up and pulled Hermione into his arms, rubbing her back in comforting circles. "Don't cry, Hermione," he cooed. "It'll be all right."

"I j-j-just c-c-can't stand you h-h-hating us!" Hermione cried into his shoulder.

"I don't hate you, Hermione," Harry assured her. "I only wanted to protect you. Please stop crying."

Only Hermione didn't seem to be listening. "I t-t-told Ron y-y-you'd be a-a-angry if w-we didn't tell you!"

Harry moved Hermione to the couch and sat her down. "Stay there," he told her as she continued to cry into her hands. "I'll be right back." He left Hermione sobbing on the couch as he crept up to his dorm room. Inside everything was dark and he could hear Neville snoring lightly from his bed.

He crept silently to Ron's bed, pulling back the hangings and shaking Ron gently. "Hey, Ron, wake up," he whispered.

Ron gave a little moan and turned over, not waking up.

Harry shook more roughly. "Ron, wake up!" he said again.

Ron sat bolt upright and stared around in confusion. " 'S matter?" he asked groggily.

Harry pulled the covers off of his friend. "Come to the common room," he muttered. "I need to tell you something." He crept back out of the room, leaving Ron looking a bit confused behind him. When he reached the common room, he found Hermione sniffling on the couch but no longer crying.

"What's going on?" Ron asked behind him from the stairs.

"Just sit down and I'll explain," Harry told him. He began to pace in front of the fire as Ron made himself comfortable on the couch next to Hermione, who leaned her head on his shoulder.

**TWO**

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked when Harry didn't speak at once.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in every direction. "I can't do this anymore," he said, more to himself than to them. "Not if Hermione's going to cry. It's not worth it." He seemed to be talking himself into something. Hermione, who always had an opinion on everything, remained silent, watching Harry's progress in front of the fire.

Harry only ever paced this way when something big was going on, so it was no surprise to Ron to find himself worrying about what Harry might say. "Go on, Harry," he said, trying not to dwell on it. "You can tell us."

"Okay," Harry said, running his hand through his hair again. "Okay. So… so, yeah, I'll just tell you straight out, that's the best way."

Ron looked at Hermione to find her eyes on him as well.

"Shit, I didn't want to do this," Harry muttered. "I hate this."

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked, sounding very shy.

"Erm," Harry said, glancing at them briefly before returning his attention to the rug. "Okay, I have something very important and very strange to tell you, but you can't interrupt or I'll lose my nerve."

"Okay, Harry," Hermione agreed. Ron nodded.

"Okay," Harry said again. Ron couldn't remember a time when he'd seen Harry so nervous. "So, this summer, when I was at my aunt and uncle's house, this woman showed up at the door. She was this strange Irish woman who talks really fast, like she's auditioning to become an auctioneer, you know?"

Ron chuckled but didn't say anything.

"So, she said she was my mum's best friend in school and she needed to talk to me about something," Harry went on, talking rather quickly himself. "She said she wanted to tell me the truth about Mum and Dad and why they couldn't stay together—"

"But I thought—"

Harry held a hand up. "Don't interrupt, Hermione," he reprimanded, though he didn't sound upset. "Where was I? Oh yeah, so I told her they did stay together, and she says 'I'm not talking about James, Harry. I'm talking about Severus. Severus is your da, not James."

"Who's that?" Ron asked, confused. He remembered someone saying the name before, but he couldn't remember who it was.

"Snape," Harry replied.

"Snape!" Ron exclaimed, jumping a little. "You're—"

"Can I continue?" Harry asked, fixing a glare on Ron. Ron nodded and Harry went on. "I told her she was crazy and she gives me this great stack of papers showing how I legally became a Potter. My birth certificate was there; apparently I was born Harry Evans and then James adopted me so that I'd be Potter instead."

"Legal papers?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "All kinds of stuff: adoption papers, and things stripping Snape's parental rights over me. You wouldn't believe this stack she handed me. She said Snape wouldn't believe me without proof."

"You mean Snape didn't know?" Hermione asked incredulously, straightening up from her place on Ron's shoulder.

"Well, it looks like he left Mum to spy before she knew she was pregnant," Harry said. "Dumbledore asked Snape to join up with the Death Eaters and spy for him, so it would have been dangerous for him to stay with Mum, but he didn't know about me or he'd never have done it. Mum didn't really understand, I don't guess, because when she found out she was pregnant she married James."

"Because it would have been a disgrace to be an unwed mother," Hermione murmured as though she hadn't meant to talk.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "It seems that Dumbledore was part of it, because he signed a few of the papers. I don't guess they would have been able to discredit Snape as a father without Dumbledore's input. They never would have had any proof that he was a Death Eater otherwise."

A very strange feeling began to blossom inside of Ron. It felt very much like rage, only stronger and more centralized. It took him a moment to realize that it was a righteous rage directed at Dumbledore for ruining Harry's life yet again. He didn't like Snape, but who was Dumbledore to take away someone's family? Harry might have had a happy childhood if Dumbledore hadn't interfered. He realized that Harry was still talking and forced himself to pay attention to his friend.

"… to Snape and he believes it. He says he proved the papers are real somehow, but he didn't tell me exactly how he did that."

"That's what it was about, isn't it?" Hermione asked quietly. "That day in Potions. This is why you did it."

Harry nodded absently. "Yeah, we needed a reason for me to go see him everyday. He wanted to get to know me, but it would seem fishy if I went there to see my least favorite teacher on a regular basis for no reason. Detention was a perfect excuse."

"And that's why you don't seem to do homework anymore," Hermione said. "Because you do it when you're at 'detention'."

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"But, Harry," Ron said. "You don't look anything like Snape. Even Mum says you look just like James Potter. How'd that happen if you're Snape's son?"

Harry stared at him for a long moment. "You're not angry?" he asked sounding very surprised.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Why should I be? You can't help who your dad is."

Harry swallowed and when he spoke his voice sounded a bit tight. "Thanks," he said.

Ron nodded encouragingly.

"Erm, yeah. I don't look like Snape because of this spell called Dëlîgo Sanguis."

Hermione gasped. "I've heard of that!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's supposed to be really difficult to cast!"

"Yeah, that's what Arêthüsa said," Harry agreed. "That's the Irish lady," he explained at his two friends' confused look. "She said that Transfiguration and Charms were Mum's best subjects. She helped Mum to cast the spell, actually, that's how she knows about all of this. If it weren't for that, Dumbledore would be the only person that would've been able to tell me about all of this, and I'm not sure he would have."

"Don't you believe it, though?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

Harry sighed again, running his hand through his hair once more. "I believe it," he muttered. "I'm just having a bit of trouble accepting it. I mean I've spent the last five years hating Snape. It's hard to think of him as my dad."

"Er, sorry to interrupt," Ron said. "But, what's that spell? Deli-what's it?"

Harry chuckled lightly. "Dëlîgo Sanguis," he supplied.

"Yeah, that. What is it?"

"Well, it makes a baby look like a man other than its biological father," Hermione explained promptly. "It only cancels when the child either accepts his natural father or if the child dies."

"Okay, thanks," Ron said. He looked back to Harry expectantly.

"How are things going with Snape then?" Hermione asked when Harry remained silent.

Harry shrugged. "Okay. He's not so bad once you get to know him, but…" He trailed off uncertainly.

"He just doesn't feel like your dad," Hermione said for him.

Harry nodded, looking as though he was trying to keep himself from weeping.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, and moved to engulf him in a hug. "Why did you wait so long to tell us?"

"I didn't want to believe it at first," Harry replied, his voice slightly muffled by Hermione's shoulder. "And then I decided not to talk to you anymore."

"About that," Ron said. "Why did you decide that? And why are you talking to us now?"

Harry stepped away from Hermione with a nod of thanks. "I didn't want to put you guys in danger," he said. "After last June—"

"Did you really believe that just because you weren't talking to us we'd be out of danger?" Hermione interrupted. "Harry, even without you as our friend, we'd still be targets."

"What d'you mean?" Harry asked. Ron was wondering the same thing.

"I'm a Muggleborn," Hermione explained. "Sooner or later, they'd want me dead. Ron here is a Weasley. His whole family does nothing but piss Death Eaters off. Besides, even if you'd never spoken to us again, we'd still help you if you were in danger."

Ron nodded his agreement with that. "Yeah, mate," he said. "We're not that easy to get rid of."

Harry looked like he was about to lose the battle with his emotions.

"Ron and I love you, Harry," Hermione went on. Ron thought it best not to disagree with that, even if it seemed a little girly to say he loved Harry. He couldn't deny it was true though; Harry was like his brother. "We'd never let anything happen to you. Why d'you think we go along with your hair-brained schemes? We can't let you go out there alone." She gestured vaguely toward the window.

Harry nodded, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I love you guys too," he whispered. Hermione pulled him into another hug, and Ron threw his pride to the wind and joined them.

"Harry, you prat," he said. "Don't ever do that again."

Harry laughed. "I won't," he said.

"So you coming with us tomorrow then?" Ron asked, pulling away to stand awkwardly back from his two friends.

"Nah," Harry replied. "I thought I'd spend the time getting to know Snape a little better."

"That's a good idea, Harry," Hermione approved. "Your first Christmas with your real father. It'll be good for both of you."

Harry smiled his thanks. "You guys are leaving early tomorrow. You should get some sleep."

"You're the one who pulled me out of bed," Ron teased. He and Harry said goodnight to Hermione and went up to their dorm to sleep.

**THREE**

Harry waved as the train pulled away from the platform in Hogsmeade. After he couldn't see it anymore, he turned and slowly made his way back up to the school. He frowned as he walked. He was fully aware that Hermione had gotten just what she'd wanted by breaking down in front of him. He'd just have to keep his eyes open for any dangers to them, that was all. He felt that he should have gone with them, but he'd already told Snape he was going to stay at the school. He couldn't very well blow off his father to spend time with his friends. Blood was thicker than water, after all. He scowled deeply at that thought. Someone needed to remind Percy Weasley of that little fact.

When Harry entered the school, he was pulled into a little niche behind the marble staircase.

"Hey, sexy," Malfoy said, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked, feeling very thrown off. "What are you doing?" He couldn't help but notice that he wasn't struggling to get out of Malfoy's grasp; in fact, he'd placed his arms around the Slytherin's shoulders.

"What?" Malfoy asked with a smirk. "The school's practically empty. No one will notice."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, still not removing himself from the blonde's embrace. "The teachers are still around, if you didn't notice."

"Ah, don't be such a spoil sport," Malfoy said lightly. "I thought the danger might appeal to your Gryffindor stupidity."

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Harry asked.

"Thank you," Malfoy replied.

"That wasn't a compliment."

"I know, but I'm going to take it as one anyway."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Many things, actually," Malfoy said suggestively, pulling Harry tight to his body.

"Something specific right now?" Harry clarified.

"I've been thinking about what you said," Malfoy replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Malfoy sighed in exasperation. "About getting to know each other?"

"Yeah?"

"So, it sounds like a good idea. You're something of a mystery, after all. I think the only people alive who know anything about you are Weasel and the Mudblood."

Harry growled low in his throat threateningly.

"Okay, Granger and Weasley," Malfoy corrected promptly. "Sure, there's plenty of rumors about you, but I doubt any of them are true. If I got to know you, I'd be one of a select few who do. I'd be part of the _elite_, so to speak."

"You're mad."

"I know. What do you think? Still want to know me?"

"Yeah. You're pretty much a mystery yourself. Unless you really are as much of an asshole as you pretend to be."

"Oh, I'm an arsehole all right," Malfoy said. "But I'm also many other things."

"I'm expected in Snape's office just now," Harry informed the blonde. "However, if you'd like to pick up this conversation later, I'd be willing to meet you in the usual place."

Malfoy gave a very put upon sigh. "I suppose that's acceptable. Wouldn't want you to get double detentions from Snape, would I?"

"I don't know, would you?"

Malfoy chuckled. "While it would be amusing, I imagine it would cut into our shagging time, so I would have to say no."

"I was wrong," Harry said. "You're not a bastard, you're a _horny_ bastard."

"Too right, I am," Malfoy agreed.

Harry stepped out of Malfoy's arms. "I'm going to be late. I'll see you around."

FOUR

Severus had been going to walk Harry back from the platform, or at least part of the way, when he heard whispering under the stairs in the Entrance Hall.

Being the stealthy spy he was, he didn't find it difficult to find out what the two students were up to. He recognized Malfoy's drawl at once.

"Ah, don't be such a spoil sport," he was saying. He sounded like he thought something was funny. "I thought the danger might appeal to your Gryffindor stupidity."

Severus raised an eyebrow. Malfoy was meeting with a Gryffindor? Malfoy _hated _Gryffindors; he made it a point to say so several times every day. Half the time when he came to speak with Severus it was to complain about some Gryffindor or another.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" another boy asked, and Severus was more than shocked to recognize Harry's unusual tenor. What did that idiot child think he was doing?

"Thank you," Malfoy said. Severus could practically hear the smirk he knew was on the boy's face.

"That wasn't a compliment," Harry muttered, but he sounded amused, not upset.

"I know, but I'm going to take it as one anyway."

"Was there something you wanted?"

"Many things, actually."

"Something specific right now?"

"I've been thinking about what you said."

There was a short silence, and then, "About getting to know each other?"

Severus frowned deeply. Harry wanted to get to know Draco Malfoy?

"Yeah?" Harry asked, answering Severus' question without knowing it.

"So, it sounds like a good idea. You're something of a mystery, after all. I think the only people alive who know anything about you are Weasel and the Mudblood."

Severus had to forcibly keep himself from chuckling when he heard Harry's growling response to that. He had to try even harder when Malfoy spoke again with slight fear in his voice.

"Okay, Granger and Weasley. Sure, there's plenty of rumors about you, but I doubt any of them are true. If I got to know you, I'd be one of the select few who do. I'd be part of the _elite_, so to speak."

"You're mad."

"I know. What do you think? Still want to know me?"

"Yeah. You're pretty much a mystery yourself. Unless you really are as much of an asshole as you pretend to be."

"Oh, I'm an arsehole all right, but I'm also many other things." Severus found the subtle difference in the way the two boys pronounced 'asshole' fascinating. Their accents weren't totally different, but sometimes it was obvious that they grew up in different parts of the country.

"I'm expected in Snape's office just now," Harry said, changing the topic abruptly. Severus felt he should probably depart before he was caught, but his curiosity kept him in place. "However, if you'd like to pick up this conversation later, I'd be willing to meet you in the usual place."

The usual place? The _usual_ place? How long had this been going on that they had a _usual_ place!

Severus then heard a very deep sigh. "I suppose that's acceptable," Malfoy said. "Wouldn't want you to get double detentions from Snape, would I?"

"I don't know, would you?" Harry asked, but it didn't sound suspicious, it sounded playful.

"While it would be amusing, I imagine it would cut into our shagging time, so I would have to say no."

At that, Severus felt it was best to hasten to his office. Shagging time? Had Malfoy been joking about that, or were he and Harry actually shagging? If they were together, then Harry had lied to him about not wanting to date. If Harry had lied about that, then that meant he didn't trust Severus. If he didn't trust Severus that meant that they weren't as close to building a healthy relationship as Severus thought. Severus' temper began to flare when he thought of Harry lying to him. He slammed the door behind him once he'd entered his office and grabbed the nearest thing he could reach (a pickled slug in a glass jar) hurling it at the wall, where it burst with a loud crash.

A tentative knock caught his attention.

"Come in!" he barked angrily, pacing back and forth in an attempt to ease his temper.

Harry slowly pushed the door open and shuffled into the office. He looked a tad nervous. "Is something wrong, sir?" he asked, eyeing the smashed jar on the floor.

_Sir! SIR! There he goes calling me 'sir' again!_ Severus thought angrily. "I've told you to use my name!" he snapped. He noticed Harry swallow.

"Sorry, Severus," he said. "I'm sorry, have I done something wrong?"

"What's going on between you and Draco Malfoy?" Severus asked, stopping his pacing to glare at his son angrily.

Harry's eyes widened with surprise. "Erm," he said.

"Don't play dumb with me, boy!" Severus yelled. "I heard you speaking with him! What's going on?"

"Erm," Harry said again. "We just decided to try to be friends."

"Friends!" Severus exploded. One part of him knew that he was being irrational, but he strongly disliked being lied to. "Do you shag your other friends, or is it just him?"

The blood drained from Harry's face. "Shag?" he asked.

"I don't want you seeing that boy again!" Severus demanded, ignoring Harry's feigned ignorance. "Do you hear me?"

The blood rushed back to Harry's face, giving him an angry flush. "Who do you think you are, telling me who I can and can't see?" he asked.

"I AM YOUR FATHER!" Severus screamed.

"YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE YOU KNOW A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ME, YOU'RE MY FATHER!" Harry screamed back, equally as angry as Severus now. "I'LL SEE WHOEVER I BLOODY WELL PLEASE!"

"HE CANNOT BE TRUSTED! I WON'T HAVE HIM CORRUPTING YOU WITH HIS PUREBLOODED STUPIDITY! I WON'T HAVE HIM TURNING YOU AWAY FROM ME!"

Harry seemed to deflate somehow. "Is that what this is about?" he asked quietly. "You think he's going to turn me into a Death Eater?"

"I think he'll bloody well try," Severus groused. "I don't want you to make the mistakes I did!"

"Stop shouting!" Harry exclaimed, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

Severus took a deep breath to calm himself. "How long have you been with him?"

"I'm not really 'with' him, per say," Harry replied, throwing himself unceremoniously into one of the chairs. "We've been having sex for a while now, though."

"You're not with him, but you're having sex with him," Severus muttered, sitting down as well albeit more gracefully. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Harry shrugged. "I haven't told anyone," he said.

"I thought you were starting to trust me."

"It's not that."

"What then?"

"I dunno. We were just using each other for mutual pleasure. It's not like we have _feelings_ for each other or anything. It didn't seem important."

"You don't think I'd find who my son is shagging in his spare time important?"

Harry swallowed again. "Well, it was more I thought you'd overreact about it. I mean, it _is_ Malfoy and you know him better than I do." He shrugged.

"What else?"

"What d'you mean, 'what else'?"

"What is the other reason you did not inform me that you were carrying on an affair with Draco Malfoy?" Severus felt his patience starting to wane again.

"Erm," he said. Severus was getting very tired of that non-word. "Well, I, erm, didn't know if you'd be, you know, okay with me, erm, sleeping with-with a, ah, boy, actually."

That had to be the most disjointed sentence Severus had ever heard. "You thought I'd be angry that you're fey?" he asked incredulously.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I'm not really fey," he said. "I like girls too. It doesn't really matter to me, to tell you the truth."

Severus sat back in his chair. "So you're telling me that you're bisexual."

"Yeah, I guess so. I hadn't really thought about it until I started shagging Malfoy."

"I see." They sat in silence for a long time, Severus observing his son fidgeting across from him. Harry seemed to be expecting something bad to happen to him. "Promise me something," Severus said at last.

"If I can," Harry replied.

"Promise that you won't keep important things like this from me," Severus said. "If he was trying to lure you into something, and I didn't know about the two of you, it would make it more difficult for me to keep you safe."

"Okay," Harry said. "I'll tell you the important stuff. I promise."

Severus nodded. "There's not much I can do about your… _relationship_ with Mr. Malfoy, so I'm not going to try. I will caution you, however, to remain on your guard around him. I do not trust him."

"I will, Severus," Harry replied.

"You may go."

"Thanks." Harry stood up and moved to the door. Just as he was about to open it, Severus spoke.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said.

"Yeah, me too," Harry replied. He gave Severus a small grin before disappearing into the corridor.

Severus sat back with a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Being Harry Potter's father was an exhausting job.

* * *

**Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta, Katy, for her hard work on this fic. Thanks also to…**

**Pia: Hehehe… I'm still debating on whether Snape should find out about that side of Harry. We shall see.**

**Lee: I know. Isn't it, though? Hehehe**


	8. Yule Holiday

**Author's Note: My apologies for this very looooooong overdue chapter. My muse abandoned me for a good long while, but it appears to have returned for the time being. I know where this is going, it's getting it on paper that's the trick. Hehehe. Here's a nice long one for you, folks. I know it doesn't make up for the long wait, but hopefully you enjoy it. Happy reading!**

** Minn **

** Chapter Eight **

**Yule Holiday **

**ONE**

Harry walked away from Severus' office slowly, going over the conversation in his mind. At first, he'd been angry that Severus was trying to dictate his life, until he found out why. He'd only been angry because he was worried. He was worried about what would happen to Harry. He was worried that Harry was in danger. He was worried about his _son_. This realization had sapped Harry's anger faster than anything else could have done. Severus actually _cared_, and that frightened Harry to a degree, but it also made his heart swell with an emotion he never thought he'd feel again: he felt… happy.

"Hey," Malfoy said from the open door of their usual deserted classroom. He was leaning against the doorframe casually, his hands clasped in front of him. "That didn't take very long. I heard shouting. Everything okay?"

Harry looked at Malfoy for a long time before replying. "You know, I think it will be," he said carefully but truthfully.

Malfoy raised his eyebrow in question, but Harry pretended not to notice. "You two getting along then, are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I wouldn't say getting along, so much as we're tolerating each other," Harry replied. "I mean he _is_ Snape, after all."

"So what was all the shouting about?" Malfoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry didn't miss the meaning of the gesture.

"Oh that," Harry muttered, letting a dark look descend onto his face. "He heard us talking under the stairs." At this, he gave Malfoy a pointed look. "He says I'm corrupting one of his precious Slytherins." Harry always found that lies worked better if there was a grain of truth in them.

"Precious Slytherins?" Malfoy asked, his arms dropping to his side and an amused smirk sliding onto his face.

"Well, he didn't actually _say_ 'precious', but that's what it came down to," Harry quipped. He walked past Malfoy into the classroom and sat down lazily on one of the chairs, slouching down low and letting his arms dangle over the arms of the chair. He propped his left leg up on the arm too and put a contented expression on his face.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow, closed the door, crossed the room and hopped up onto a desk directly across from Harry, leaning forward on his hands, his legs swinging back and forth. They proceeded to stare at each other.

Harry observed the enigmatic Slytherin silently; taking in the curves of his face and the way his hair was falling. Malfoy's face was calm, almost serene, as though there was nowhere in the world he would rather have been. A lone strand of his platinum hair was falling across his eye, which he didn't seem to notice. He'd rolled the sleeves of his robes up slightly showing the muscles and tendons in his thin forearms as they seemed to strain with the slight weight he was putting on his hands. His eyes watched Harry patiently, traveling across Harry's features as though trying to memorize them; much the way Harry was memorizing him. The dark shadows from the room were playing across his face making him look incredibly innocent but incredibly sexy at the same time.

"So," Malfoy said at last, his eyes fixing on Harry's lips.

"So," Harry replied unhelpfully.

"Should we just ask questions then?" Malfoy asked. "See how much we can learn?"

"That sounds good," Harry said.

Another moment passed in silence before Malfoy said, "You go first."

Harry thought for a long moment, wondering where the best place to start would be. "When's your birthday?" he asked at last.

"My birthday?" Malfoy said incredulously as though he found this question out of line.

"Yes, your birthday."

"Of all the things you could have asked me, you want to know when my birthday is."

"Yes."

Malfoy chuckled lightly. "March twenty-third. When's yours?"

"July thirty-first."

"July? So I'm older than you then?"

"A bit. I'm amazed they didn't print it in a book somewhere."

"They may have. I just skim the chapters where you're mentioned."

Harry laughed outright. "So do I," he said.

Malfoy cracked a small smile. "My turn. If you could take a day off from your life, what would you do?"

Harry didn't even need to think it over. "I would go flying," he said.

"You'd play Quidditch?" Malfoy asked amazed.

"No, not Quidditch," Harry replied. "I'd fly through the countryside and I wouldn't come down until I absolutely could not hold onto my broom anymore."

Malfoy nodded thoughtfully.

"What about you?" Harry asked. "What would you do?"

"I'd put on a glamour and go out on the town. I'd shop all day and no one would know who I was."

Harry was surprised by the answer. He'd always assumed that Malfoy loved being who he was. He'd thought that Malfoy liked being rich and well known, especially when people were kissing up to him because of his wealth.

"What was your childhood like?" Harry asked.

"Well _that's_ a loaded question," Malfoy commented.

"Just tell me the basics," Harry said.

Malfoy thought about it. "I spent most of my time either alone or with my governess. Mother and Father are both very busy, you know. Father has many business contacts, and when I was growing up, he was still on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, so he was quite busy with that. Mother was the public face of the family. She'd throw parties for all of the affluent wizarding families. They loved me, I've no doubt of that; they just didn't have a lot of time to show it, that's all.

"Most of the time I had my nose in a book, learning all of the things Father insisted on me learning. I know how to speak Latin, Greek, German, French and Spanish. I took calligraphy courses until I started at Hogwarts, by which time my handwriting was flawless. I learned a lot of Dark Magic, as well as basic things like Wingardium Leviosa and such. I learned how to ride horses and play polo—"

"Isn't that rather… Muggle?" Harry interrupted.

"I imagine our version of polo is a bit different from theirs," Malfoy replied. "Anyway, Father knew that you and I would be in the same year here, so he wanted me to make friends with you. He said it would be beneficial to our family to have ourselves in your good graces."

"Well, you fucked that up royally, I must say," Harry said.

Malfoy frowned at him. "Father was most displeased by that. He told me I hadn't tried hard enough." He shrugged. "I didn't care by then, though. I was angry with you for choosing a Weasley over me. I'd been taught my entire life that Weasleys were beneath me, even if they were purebloods. Hogwarts has been one disappointment after another since I started here. First you turned me down for friendship, and then you get picked for the Quidditch team in your first year, then you beat me in Quidditch the first time I played you, and that imposter Moody turned me into a ferret and made a fool of me in front of the whole school. It just never got any better until this year. I've never considered that perhaps you and I could be something other than enemies. I rather like this arrangement better."

Harry was nodding his understanding of what Malfoy was saying. "So what made you decide—"

"Ah, ah, ah," Malfoy interrupted, shaking his finger. "It's my turn to ask something now."

Harry chuckled and waved in acquiescence.

"Tell me about _your_ childhood," he said.

Harry had known that would be Malfoy's next question. He proceeded to explain about the Dursleys and his lack of knowledge about the Wizarding world before coming to Hogwarts. ("What's a zoo?") He even told Malfoy about the hut on the rock in the middle of the ocean where Hagrid had finally found him ("What's a rifle?") and given him his letter. He told Malfoy about his summers away from Hogwarts, about Dobby ("Dobby went to your _house_?") sealing the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ and why they'd flown the car to school that year. He explained about Hermione's time-turner ("She had a time-turner?") in third year and how she and Harry had used it to rescue Sirius and Buckbeak ("So _that's_ what happened!") before returning to the hospital wing and claiming they hadn't been involved. ("Snape was furious about that, you know.") He didn't go into detail about certain things, such as the Third Task, or what had happened in the Department of Mysteries, but he thought that Malfoy had an idea about those events.

"Merlin's beard, Potter," Malfoy said when Harry had fallen silent. "You make my childhood sound frightfully dull."

Harry scowled, looking down at a spot on the floor. "I wish mine had been dull," he muttered.

"Is it true that Bellatrix killed Sirius Black?" Malfoy asked abruptly.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to force the pain of it out of his mind. He nodded without speaking, hoping that Malfoy would take the hint.

"You were close with him, weren't you?" he asked gently.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. "You could say that."

Malfoy was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said at last.

Harry's head snapped up and he stared at Malfoy in surprise. "Thank you," he said. He'd meant to say it in a strong voice, but it came out in a strained whisper.

"Don't mention it," Malfoy replied. He was looking at Harry strangely, as though he'd never seen him before. "You know, I've been thinking about it, and I don't think I ever really hated you."

Harry raised his eyebrow and said nothing. He was still trying to get his emotions back under control.

"I was jealous of you because you were famous, and people liked you. I didn't think it was fair that the teachers all fawned over you, but now I think I know why they do."

"And what's your theory about that?"

"I think perhaps they're trying to make your life a little easier because you're the Dark Lord's number one target."

Harry snorted inelegantly and crossed his arms over his chest. "Maybe," he said. He was thinking about the prophecy. He _hated_ the prophecy, but he hated Dumbledore more for keeping it from him for so long. Sirius might not have died if only Dumbledore had told him about that damned prophecy sooner. Sirius might not have died, too, if Dumbledore hadn't kept Harry from Severus for so long. If Dumbledore had come clean about Harry's parentage as soon as Lily and James had been killed, maybe Sirius would have able to get on with his life. If Dumbledore hadn't gone along with Lily's trick to begin with, Sirius need never have wasted twelve years of his life in Azkaban. He shook his head in an attempt to banish the horrid thoughts and turned his gaze back to Malfoy, who was looking at him with some concern.

"So what made you decide that you wanted to get together with me?" Harry asked, trying to distract Malfoy's attention from the topic at hand.

Malfoy leaned back on his hands, looking at Harry oddly. "You're beautiful," he said after a moment.

Harry was so surprised by this that he stared blankly for almost a whole minute. "What?"

Malfoy chuckled a bit. "You're beautiful and you don't even know it. Beautiful people who don't _know_ they're beautiful are sexy. You're very sexy."

Harry's eyebrow went up. "You think I'm sexy?"

"Don't I tell you often enough?"

"You do, I just… never thought that you were serious."

"Well I was."

Harry swallowed. He felt somehow honored that Malfoy could say such a thing to him. He felt that their question and answer session had come to its end. He wanted to show Malfoy his appreciation. He rose slowly, gracefully putting his limbs back in order, and crossed to Malfoy's perch on the table. He gently ran his hand down Malfoy's face, staring into those gray eyes he was coming to adore. He knew it wasn't healthy to care for Malfoy as much as he did, but he simply couldn't banish the feelings from his heart.

**TWO**

There were emotions Draco couldn't identify swirling in those emerald eyes he'd fallen in love with. He barely knew anything about Harry, but he knew without a doubt that he was in love. How couldn't he be, when Harry was so deep? He had to force himself to keep from shivering as those gentle fingers caressed his face.

"Thank you," Harry murmured. He leaned down and captured Draco's mouth in a kiss before the blonde could reply. This kiss was nothing like the many kisses they'd shared since the beginning of the year. Those kisses had been heated and frantic, full of animal desire and lust. This kiss was everything those kisses were not: slow, probing, deep… caring, it took Draco's breath away and his hands found their way to the back of Harry's head, pulling the Gryffindor closer as they both moaned their mutual pleasure.

"Take me, Draco," Harry whispered in Draco's ear when he'd moved his kisses to Draco's neck. "Show me."

Draco pulled back to look into Harry's eyes, seeing trust and need there, but also something he couldn't describe and was too frightened to look deeper for. He nodded his acquiescence of Harry's quiet plea and rose from the desk, pulling Harry closer to him.

As he stood before his partner, he toyed with Harry's buttons. "Let me undress you, Harry," he murmured. "You've never let me undress you before."

"Yes," Harry said, though it came out as more of a gasp.

As Draco slowly popped each button, kissing Harry's jaw and neck as he did so, he couldn't help but reflect upon their most recent encounters. Harry had been having more and more trouble climaxing each time they had sex. Draco thought it had something to do with that unrecognizable emotion he'd seen in Harry's eyes. He'd also noticed that Harry's rough play had softened considerably. He'd taken to gently preparing Draco before engaging and making it last as long as possible before allowing either of them to come.

"Touch me, Draco," Harry murmured as Draco pushed his robe off of his shoulders.

Draco pushed his hands up underneath Harry's too big tee shirt and rubbed on the hardened nipples he found there. Harry gasped gently and arched into Draco's hands. Harry's hands moved to Draco's robes and began to pull the buttons open, their mouths meeting in another deep kiss, their tongues dancing over each other in mutual understanding and need.

Draco gasped when Harry's hands met his bare skin. "Yes!" he said, without being aware he'd done so. He spelled the floor clean and softer than it should have been, gently lowering Harry down onto his back. Draco removed the jar of lubricant from his robes and dipped his fingers in, rubbing his hands together to warm it a bit.

"Please, Draco," Harry moaned breathlessly. "Please. I want to feel you. Please." Between each appeal, Harry placed a kiss on Draco's neck or jaw, his hands touching everything they could find. Though the words were pleading in nature, it didn't sound like begging. It sounded more like murmured requests.

Draco's nerves were on fire with the passion he felt for the beautiful being beneath him. Slowly and gently, Draco prepared Harry gently and slowly, coaxing the nervous tension from his lover's body.

"Now, Draco," Harry murmured. "I'm ready."

They made love slowly and passionately, learning together what tenderness felt like.

Harry was stroking his back gently with his fingers. "Amazing," he whispered.

Draco could only nod as he attempted to get back his breath.

"Beautiful," Harry went on.

Draco lifted his head enough to see Harry. "Am I still ugly?" he asked uncertainly. He'd never admit it, but when Harry had called him ugly so long ago, it had hurt Draco's feelings.

"No, not ugly," Harry replied, kissing the shell of Draco's ear. "Not ugly."

Draco gathered his energy and rolled off of Harry, grunting slightly when he hit the floor. Harry rolled onto his side and placed his head on Draco's chest. "Not ugly," he said again.

Draco placed his arms around Harry and pulled him closer. "Harry?"

"Hm?"

"What does this make us now?"

"I guess it makes us lovers." Harry was tracing small circles on Draco's chest.

Draco smiled a bit. "I like that," he said. He kissed the top of Harry's head and closed his eyes, intending to rest for just a moment before they left the classroom. He drifted off to sleep with Harry held securely in his arms and had pleasant dreams.

**THREE**

Severus was walking down the corridor quietly, on his way to lunch, when he heard a soft whimper from a door to his left. He opened the door curiously, wondering whom it could be. When he saw his son in Draco Malfoy's arms, both boys asleep peacefully, he had to suppress a gasp. Hearing about Harry having sex was one thing; actually seeing it was something else all together. Harry was whimpering a little in his sleep, but Draco's arms tightened around him and he calmed.

Severus ran a hand over his eyes tiredly and sighed heavily. He didn't like this, not at all. Draco had been raised by one of the coolest liars Severus had ever met. It only stood to reason that he'd have taught his son the same trick. This was conflicting with the thought that it would be hard to maintain such a façade when he was asleep. Severus sighed again and conjured a light blanket, which he placed over the two sleeping boys. Harry snuggled in closer to Draco when the blanket settled over him. Severus decided that he'd have to find out how much Harry knew and understood about sex. He was not looking forward to _that_ conversation.

He walked to the Great Hall silently, his mind swimming with worries about his child. He hardly noticed that there was only one table as he sat down and placed his napkin over his lap. He was vaguely aware of Albus' eyes on him, but he didn't care much about that. He highly doubted that the two boys would show for lunch, and sure enough, by the end of the meal both boys had still not arrived.

"Severus, a word if you would," Albus said as Severus rose to head back to his quarters. He glanced at Albus warily before giving a sharp nod of his head.

He and Albus walked back to Albus' office in a tight silence that was only broken by the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.

"Have a seat, Severus," Albus said once they'd reached his office.

Severus sat in the blue star-spangled monstrosity and clasped his hands in his lap. "What is it, Albus?" he asked impatiently.

Albus sat down and observed Severus serenely for a long moment. "Would you like some tea?" he asked. "Or a sherbet lemon?"

"We just had lunch, Albus," Severus grated. "Perhaps if we could get on with it?"

"I'm just being courteous," Albus replied. "I've called you here because I am worried for Harry."

"Why?" Severus asked, thinking that perhaps Albus knew something he did not.

"He seems very withdrawn this year, compared to years past."

"He's had a difficult time of it, Albus. Surely you didn't expect him to come back here all smiles and giggles after what happened in June?"

"No, I didn't expect that. He's never been all smiles and giggles, Severus. Unfortunately, he seems to have gone into depression. His teachers inform me that he almost never talks in class anymore, whether it be to answer a question or a whispered conversation with his friends. He hardly seems to care about anything and that bothers me."

Severus stared at the old man for a long moment. "_That_ bothers you?" he asked, unable to stop himself. "You – you're – that's the most idiotic thing I have ever heard!" he spluttered, anger rising rapidly in his chest.

"Surely it worries you, Severus?" Albus asked.

"Of course it worries me!"

"Then I must say that I'm quite confused by your reaction."

"Of all the numerous things you've done to him and _that_ is what bothers you," Severus muttered, just loud enough for Albus to hear him. "You foisted him on a family who didn't want him, you manipulated him into facing the Dark Lord on several occasions, you took away his family, you didn't tell him why it was so important for him to learn Occlumency and _now_ you're worried because he doesn't care about anything. It's _your_ fault that he doesn't care!"

Albus sighed deeply and lowered his head. "I have already spoken to him about those things," he said. "I have tried to explain to him why I did the things I've done. Must I justify myself to you as well?"

"I just want to know one thing," Severus replied.

"I will tell you if I can."

"Why? I want to know why. You claimed to be my friend. You claimed that I could trust you with anything. I gave up my life and my family to spy for you, in an attempt to bring some kind of order back to this world, and you took the one thing that would have made my life _mean_ something. That child is all I have left. He's the only reason I wake up in the morning! I've watched over him for all these years because he was Lily's baby. I watch over him now because he is _my_ baby. And I'll tell you this Albus, if I'd known that he was mine before this, with all of the things you have allowed to happen to him I would have pulled him out of this school by now. I'm sure that any other parent would agree with me. I deserve to know why you've done this to us."

"Us?" Severus had never seen Albus look so very sad, but he didn't care at that moment. All he cared about was finding out the truth. He'd been avoiding Albus for months simply because he didn't want to hurt his mentor and friend, but he needed to know.

"Yes, _us_," he said. "Harry and me. _Us_."

Albus sighed and poured himself a cup of tea. He took a sip, watching Severus over the rim of his cup before setting it down on the desk. "Harry was already a target before he was born," he said.

Severus stared at the man in utter shock. Of all the things Albus could have said, this one was a reason that gave him even less excuse to remove Harry from his father.

"I assure you that when I asked you to spy for the Order, I did not know that Lily was with-child. I never would have suggested it had I known. By the time Lily informed me of the situation, you had already gone to the Death Eaters to be incorporated into their ranks. I knew that if I told you about Harry, you would attempt to leave the Death Eaters and talk some sense to Lily. If you'd tried to leave, Voldemort would have killed you without question. Harry was already Voldemort's number one target, and James was always better with a wand than you were."

"Why was Harry a target?"

Albus closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning his gaze on Severus again. "There was a prophecy made," he replied.

"I've heard of this prophecy, but I do not know what it contains."

"It stated that the one who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord would be born at the end of July. It goes on to say that the Dark Lord would mark this child as his equal. The most important part, however is when it states 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' "

Severus felt light headed. "You kept him from me because the Dark Lord wanted him dead over this stupid prophecy? You thought that James Potter would be a better protector?"

"James didn't have as much of an emotional investment as you would have," Albus said. "He'd taken an oath to care for and protect Harry to the best of his ability. He died to give your son life, Severus."

"What about after?" Severus asked. "Once the Dark Lord was gone and James and Lily were dead, why didn't you bring Harry to me then, rather than to his Muggle relatives?"

"As you know, Lily died to protect Harry," Albus replied. "Her only blood relation left is her sister, Petunia Dursley. He is protected with blood magic as long as he returns to her once a year."

"He's my blood as well."

"But you are not Lily's blood. The relative must be Lily's blood relative for the protective charms to remain intact. It's important for Harry to be safe."

"So you're telling me that even though we both know the truth now, you're still going to send him back to his Muggles this summer. You're not going to let him stay with me."

"Severus, when Voldemort fell the entirety of our world was thrown into disarray. The Death Eater trials were a complete fiasco and many of them were never apprehended."

Severus forced himself to remain calm and turned to look out of the window so he wouldn't have to see those sad blue eyes.

"Just because Voldemort fell does not mean that I stopped watching those who got away. Many of them were watching _you_."

Severus turned to Albus with wide eyes.

"You started working at Hogwarts a year before Harry was born. They did not trust you. They wanted proof that you weren't loyal. I spoke for you at the Wizengamot trials. If I'd given you Harry after Lily was killed, they would have known, and they would have come for you. There is no doubt in my mind that if I'd given him to you then, both of you would be dead now. I was trying to protect you as much as I was protecting him. I didn't want anything to happen to either of you."

Severus turned back to the window, his mind swimming with this new information.

"Their children watch you now, Severus," Albus went on. "They themselves cannot watch you at Hogwarts, but their children can and do. It is imperative that no one finds out that you are Harry's father. I told you that I would find a temporary arrangement and I will, but ask you to be patient. The second war has begun. It is only a matter of time before Voldemort makes his next move. I ask you to keep your son's safety in mind, despite how much you may want him with you."

Severus nodded silently, a feeling of complete loss and misery settling over his heart. He'd been making plans to return to his ancestral home, to clean it and prepare it to house a family once again. He never expected that, after everything he'd discovered, he'd have to remain at Hogwarts without his son. He understood now though, and he couldn't let his own selfish desire to be near his child put Harry's life in danger. "I understand," he said after a long moment. "I will not do anything rash."

Albus nodded a bit and sat back in his chair. "I'm sorry to have done this to you, Severus, but there was no other way; it was the only thing I could think to do that would keep both of you safe. Please forgive an old man his conscious."

Severus closed his eyes as his sense of misery increased. "Thank you for telling me," he murmured. "I have things I must do. May I go?"

Albus nodded. "Go, Severus, and try to enjoy your holiday."

**FOUR**

Christmas day dawned bright and beautiful at Hogwarts. Harry sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he looked up, he started, for Severus was sitting on Dean's bed watching him.

"How'd you get in here?" Harry asked.

"I'm a professor, Harry," Severus replied. "I have access to all of the common rooms in case of emergency."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Harry said.

Severus chuckled lightly, raising his wand and pointing it to a corner of the dorm. "Accio presents!" he said and a small pile of gifts came zooming toward him, landing neatly at his feet. "I figured since this is the first Christmas we'd have as father and son, we could open our gifts together."

Harry smiled at his father. "Okay," he said.

"You open one first," Severus said, gesturing toward Harry's small stack of gifts.

Harry reached to the end of his bed and randomly picked up a gift. "This one's from Ron," he said. He pulled the small piece of parchment off of the front and read it out loud.

_Harry,_

_I know you already have one of these, but I figured you might need more room to record new memories. I hope you like it._

_Ron._

Curious now, Harry tore the paper from the gift and a handsome, leather bound photo album was revealed. It was pure black and in a square on the cover was a picture of Harry, Ron and Hermione from their third year. Harry flipped the book open and found a few pictures from years past, the last one being the front page of The Quibbler in which Harry had given his interview the previous year. "Wow, Ron," he whispered.

"May I?" Severus asked, reaching a hand out for the album. Harry passed him the album and watched as Severus slowly flipped through it. "This is a very thoughtful gift," he said after several moments.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Erm, you open one now."

"Very well," Severus said, passing the album back to Harry, who carefully placed it on his night table.

Severus reached down to his pile and picked a long, rectangular box from the stack. "This one will be from Minerva," he said. He pulled a tiny card from the box and read:

_To: The Snarky Git_

_From: The Mangy Feline_

Harry started giggling.

"Yes, this is Minerva's," Severus agreed with himself, ignoring Harry's giggling and opening the gift. It was a bottle of sherry. "Ah, she has magnificent taste," Severus commented, reading the label.

Harry, still giggling, reached for another gift from his pile. He lifted a large heavy gift and knew immediately that it was Hermione's yearly book.

_Dear Harry,_

_I thought that this might come in handy soon. Happy Christmas._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

Harry pulled off the paper, and sure enough, a large tome was revealed. It said _Curses and Their Defenses to Keep You and You're Family Safe_ by Millicent Grumble.

"That's an excellent book," Severus commented, watching Harry closely. "You should study it carefully."

"Okay, I'll do that," Harry agreed, flipping randomly before waving for Severus to open his next gift.

Severus grabbed a small box from the stack. "This one is from Albus," he said. "That man never leaves a card or note."

Harry chuckled as Severus tore off the lurid purple with yellow stars wrapping paper. "Ah, a potions journal," Severus muttered. "He always seems to know when I need a new one."

"Potions journal?" Harry asked.

"When I do experiments, it helps to have a book to record results in," Severus explained. "My current journal is nearly filled. This will come in handy for me."

Harry nodded and grabbed the next gift from his pile. "Oh," he muttered, fingering the small package. "This one's from, er, Draco." He glanced at his father nervously only to be met with a raised eyebrow.

"Open it then," he said, but his voice was less than warm.

Harry nodded and opened the gift, which was wrapped in pure black paper with a silver bow. Inside was a small jewel box, which he snapped open. He lifted the delicate chain from the box until the small dragon pendant was level with his eyes. It was of an intricate design, it's wings poised as though to take flight, it's glittering diamond eyes seemingly watching Harry. "It's beautiful," he murmured.

"It is," Severus agreed, but he was squinting at the pendant in a suspicious manner. "May I see it?"

Harry silently passed it over and watched as Severus cast several spells over it, his dark eyebrows going up in surprise. "It's layered in protective spells," he said, handing the chain back to Harry.

"Protective spells?" Harry asked. "I wonder if he's expecting me to be attacked or something."

Severus was still gazing at the pendant and didn't answer. He seemed to be having an internal debate about something, but the next moment he'd reached down and grabbed his next gift. "It seems I have found yours," he said.

Harry blushed. "I, erm, didn't know what to get you," he muttered.

Severus opened the package and a home care kit fell into his hand. It had a handsome leather case inside of which he found a bottle of Muggle clarifying shampoo, conditioner for fine hair, body wash, and shave cream. "Are you trying to tell me something?" Severus asked, but he sounded more playful than offended.

"No," Harry replied. "I told you, I didn't know what to get."

Severus chuckled and set Harry's gift aside. Harry pulled another from his stack. "This one's from Mrs. Weasley." It was his usual Weasley jumper and three mince pies.

"Does she believe that the school is attempting to starve you?" Severus asked with amusement.

"She always thinks that I'm too thin," Harry said. "I imagine she's trying to fatten me up."

Severus chuckled. He opened his next, which was from Professor Flitwick and turned out to be a set of scales charmed to chide you if you measured something wrong. Severus scowled at it and said that Flitwick was probably laughing when he wrapped it.

Harry's next was three pairs of mismatched socks from Dobby.

"Why don't they match?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, well, Dobby thinks that socks are supposed to be mismatched," Harry replied.

Severus chuckled and reached for his next, the last one he had in his pile. It was an astrology guide from Professor Sinistra. Severus said it would help him when he was looking for fresh ingredients for his potions.

The next gift in Harry's pile was from Severus. It consisted of three pairs of self-sizing Muggle jeans and three designer jumpers: one green, one red and one black.

"I figured you could use some clothes that fit," Severus explained as Harry pulled the clothing out of the box.

Harry's last was from Fred and George, who tended to give presents in tandem rather than one from each. It was a large package of some of their newer gags from their joke shop. Their note informed him to lighten up and wreak some havoc for them.

"Just don't use it in my class," Severus requested, referring to the Skiving Snack Box included in the package.

"I won't," Harry replied. He doubted he'd use the Snack Box in any class, but he put the lot into his trunk.

Severus' eyes were wandering around the dormitory now and they landed on Dean's West Ham poster, at which he stared with a dubious expression. He reached out and poked the goalie's eye experimentally.

"It's a Muggle poster," Harry said, trying not to laugh.

"Why don't they move?" Severus asked, poking the goalie again.

"Muggles don't have potions to develop their photographs in," Harry replied. "It takes a lot of work for them to create moving pictures, and then you need a machine to make them move."

"How very odd," Severus commented. He stopped poking the picture and read the top. "What is that, 'football'?" he asked.

"It's a game," Harry replied.

"Hm," Severus said. He stood up and motioned for Harry to follow him. "Let's go play some chess."

Harry shrugged and followed Severus out of the room.

**FIVE**

Draco was disappointed when Harry didn't show for breakfast. As he was leaving the Great Hall, he froze, watching Harry and Snape come down the marble staircase together, chatting amicably. Snape had a bottle of something in his hand and Harry seemed to be explaining it to him.

Draco frowned deeply. What was going on? Harry had told him at the beginning of the holiday that he and Snape still weren't getting along. They were 'tolerating each other', he'd said. It looked as though they were on pretty good terms from where Draco was standing. Neither of them noticed him there.

After the unlikely duo had disappeared down the stairs, Draco made his way back to Slytherin, still frowning over what he'd seen. He wished he could have heard what they were talking about, but he figured he could use Harry's gift to find out. He entered his bedroom and lifted the large box from its place next to his desk. Opening it and pulling the ball from its tissue bedding, he carried it to the common room and made himself comfortable on the leather couch. This gift had him wondering at first because it looked just like a crystal ball, except the fog inside was poison green instead of gray and it was larger, almost the size of a Quaffle. Harry's note had explained it though.

_Dear Draco,_

_I know what you're thinking, but don't jump to conclusions just yet. This is a Seeing Ball. It will show you whatever you ask, as long as the area in which the event is happening hasn't been protected with spells against spying. For example: if you want to see what I do after I hop into bed at night, just say 'Show me Harry James Potter' and you'll see me. You have to be specific though because there could be a million people called 'Harry' in the Ball's seeing range. I hope you like it._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

_P.S. To turn it off, say 'enough' or else it'll just follow the person around all day._

Draco decided this was a good excuse to test his newest possession. "Show me Harry James Potter," he said clearly, holding the large ball up to his eyes. The green smoke swirled faster and faster until it stopped and formed itself into words. _'Harry James Potter is in a secured location,'_ it informed him.

"Damn it," Draco muttered, figuring that he should have known that Snape would spell his office. He carefully placed the orb on the table in front of him and leaned back, staring at the ceiling blankly. _'What are those two up to?'_ he wondered. He couldn't imagine what could make them speak so casually to each other. Usually when Snape looked at Harry, he was sneering maliciously and docking House points from Gryffindor. Why was he being so friendly all of a sudden?

With a sigh, Draco decided that brooding wasn't going to get him anywhere and took out his Transfiguration assignment, the only bit of holiday homework he had left to finish, and began to work on it. It took him nearly two hours to finish because he kept having to go back to his book and look things up. Once he was finished, he decided that he'd given Harry plenty of time to make it back to his dorm. He picked up the orb again and said, "Show me Harry James Potter."

The smoke swirled again, faster and faster until it stopped and formed itself into words. _'Harry James Potter is in a secured location.'_

"Still?" Draco asked. What were they doing for so long? He grumbled under his breath, angry that Harry couldn't even spare a moment for him on Christmas day. He planned on letting Harry know just what he thought of _that_. Draco lazed about for a bit longer, trying to find things to distract himself, until he decided to try one more time. He lifted the orb and said once again, "Show me Harry James Potter."

The green mist swirled faster and faster until it looked like a green blur and then a window seemed to open inside the orb.

Harry was standing in the corridor outside of Snape's office, facing the open door. "No, I'm busy tonight," he was saying.

"With Draco?" Snape's voice asked from inside the door. Draco frowned deeply. Snape didn't request that you come to see him; he _demanded_ that you show up or face the consequences.

"Yeah," Harry said, fidgeting slightly and a small blush coming to his cheeks. "It _is_ Christmas and he's probably already upset that I haven't seen him yet today."

"Damn right," Draco said.

"You just remember what I told you," Snape warned. "I don't want you—"

"I know," Harry interrupted. "Don't worry so much about it. We both know what we're doing."

"I hope you're right. Enjoy the rest of your Christmas."

"Thanks, you do the same." The door closed and Harry began moving down the corridor, his head down and a pensive expression on his face. Draco said, "Enough" and placed the orb back on the table, its green mist swirling lazily once again. What was going on? He was very frustrated. He knew something was happening between Snape and Harry, but he didn't want to think about what it could be. He decided to intercept Harry and confront him about it.

**SIX**

Harry was surprised when he reached the Entrance Hall and saw Draco leaning against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Hey," Harry greeted, moving toward the blonde.

"Do you know what bloody time it is?" Draco snapped at him.

Harry flinched; he _knew_ Draco was going to be upset. "Almost four, I think," he replied casually.

"That's right! Why have you been in Snape's office for five hours?"

Harry's eyebrow went up. "Been keeping tabs on me, have you?"

"I saw you this morning heading down there, all chatty with the snarky git. I was under the impression that you hated each other."

Harry sighed and moved closer to his irate lover. "We tolerate each other," he said, attempting to touch Draco's cheek, but Draco moved his head away.

"Tolerate?" he asked skeptically.

"Well yeah," Harry replied. "It'd be difficult for both of us if we couldn't stand to be in the same room together, wouldn't it? We called a sort of truce. He'd stop hating me for shit I didn't do, and I'd stop hating him even though he actually _did_ the shit I hate him for. It works out."

Draco didn't say anything, but his lips pursed together into a thin line.

"Look, it's just until the end of the year, when I won't have detentions with him anymore."

"I don't like it."

Harry came to a realization then. Draco was jealous! Jealous of Snape! "Why not?" he asked carefully. "Its just detention."

"He's evil, Harry!" Draco snapped. "Who knows what he's making you do down there? I mean, what could you have been doing for five hours?"

"You're not suggesting that Snape and I are… involved, are you?"

"How do I know if you're not?"

Harry couldn't suppress the shudder that went through his body. "Snape's not even good looking!" he exclaimed. "And besides that, he went to school with my _father_! That's just… wrong! Ew! How could you even think such a thing?" It wouldn't do to tell Draco that Snape _was_ his father.

"Well, you don't exactly come from your detentions looking upset," Draco pointed out. "What am I _supposed_ to think?"

Harry raised his hand and began unconsciously playing with the pendant Draco had given him, which was hanging around his neck. "Draco, you're the only one I'm with," he said patiently. "Besides, if Snape tried to touch me that way, I'd tell Dumbledore. I may have a hero complex, but I'm not _entirely_ stupid. I know what sexual abuse is."

Draco's hands fell to his sides as he watched Harry playing with the pendant. "Did you like my gift then?" he asked softly.

Harry stepped closer and took the blonde's face between his hands. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Draco replied. He leaned forward and kissed Harry gently. "I'm sorry. I was just pissed off at you."

"I thought you might be," Harry said. "Happy Christmas, by the way."

Draco chuckled. "Happy Christmas," he said. They spent the rest of the day together. The last of the holiday went smoothly; Harry spent the night in Draco's room on Christmas night, chuckling about the green and black décor in the Slytherin common room. The day before the students were due to return, Draco spent the day in the Gryffindor common room, lounging about with Harry and doing… other things. He'd be sad to see the holidays end.

* * *

**Author's Note: If you wish to read the unedited version of this chapter, please refer to the websites listed on my author page. Ta for now!**

**Minn**


	9. I'd Rather Die

**Chapter Nine **

**I'd Rather Die**

**ONE**

Severus was pacing. He'd been pacing for the past twenty minutes and showed no signs of stopping. The Dark Lord had called him thirty minutes before and left him alone in the Riddle House lounge, at which time he'd proceeded to pace across the spacious room. Twenty minutes later, he was no closer to figuring out what the megalomaniac wanted than when he'd arrived.

Severus had been sitting in his quarters at Hogwarts, grading the Gryffindor/Slytherin fourth year potions essays when his Mark had begun burning painfully. It was the middle of the night, and Harry had already left from his 'detention' so Severus had been quite alone when he was called. He'd informed Dumbledore at once, obviously, but now he was worried. He couldn't imagine what the Dark Lord was planning that he would leave Severus waiting all alone for twenty minutes. He spun around quickly as he heard the door bang open, and watched apprehensively as a large group of Death Eaters filed in, forming a circle around him: a circle with no gaps in it. Severus swallowed hard, for a large lump had suddenly decided to take up residence in his throat.

'Shit,' he thought. 'I'm a dead man.' It was obvious almost at once that he'd been figured out, though he couldn't imagine how that had happened. He stared around, hoping that perhaps he'd just missed the gap for him, but circle remained stubbornly completed.

The Death Eaters around him remained silent, but they seemed listless, small shivers traveling around the circle every now and then. After several tense moments, the Dark Lord entered through the still opened doors, closing them behind him with a bang. He moved to stand next to Severus, who went down to his knees with the other Death Eaters.

"Rise," the Dark Lord said softly. Severus and the rest rose to standing, but Severus kept his head bowed, hoping against hope that he wasn't about to be killed. He had a reason to remain amongst the living now, he did not intend to abandon the son he'd so recently discovered.

The Dark Lord began walking around the circle silently, pausing on occasion to observe one of them before moving on. At last he spoke. "Can any of you tell me why we have gathered here tonight?" he asked gently, almost affectionately, as though he actually cared about the group gathered around him.

"My Lord," Goyle said, bowing low.

"Yes, Goyle?" the Dark Lord said. "You have something to say?"

"We have gathered to execute a traitor," Goyle rasped. His voice had always been very gravely, as far as Severus knew. He wondered now, granted irreverently, how the man's voice had become that way.

"Yes, Goyle," the Dark Lord replied. "You have answered right. We have in our midst, a traitor. I shall admit to having been surprised at learning his identity, but I was not surprised that he could accomplish it. It takes a powerful mind to lie to the Dark Lord." He turned toward Severus. "Severus has always had a _very_ strong mind indeed."

The circle stirred again, but no one dared to speak. Severus kept his head bowed, trying to find a way out of this particular situation. He had his emergency Portkey in his pocket, but with the Dark Lord watching him so closely; he knew he'd be dead before he could reach it.

The Dark Lord now walked toward Severus, moving slowly as though seducing a long lost lover. "Severus," he purred. "How could you have believed that I would not discover your deception?"

"I am not that deluded," Severus replied. "I knew you would find out eventually."

"And still you went forward. You have always been foolish, Severus."

"Perhaps."

"What could be so important to you that you would betray me?"

Severus chose to remain silent. That question, so easy to answer less than a year ago, had suddenly become very loaded. He did not intend to tell the Dark Lord everything he knew. He would rather die than to betray the people who had placed their very lives in his hands.

"Not feeling talkative tonight, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked. "Perhaps I can persuade you. _Crucio_." He spoke the spell casually, almost lovingly, but that didn't stop it from hurting intensely.

Severus' entire world melted away into a realm of agony. His concerns were nothing compared to the searing pain that was permeating right down to his bone marrow. His nerves were alight with it, his mind screaming at him to make it stop, whatever he had to do, just make it stop!

The pain stopped as abruptly as it had started and Severus heard the screams echoing around the large room before dying away, dimly aware that they were his own. He lay panting on his back, wondering stupidly how he'd ended up laying down. He'd been so certain that he was standing. How had he ended up on the floor?

The Dark Lord crouched next to him, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. He cocked his head slightly, his terrifying red eyes watching Severus in seeming curiosity. "I understand that curse is rather painful," he said, still stroking Severus' hair. "Has it loosened your tongue?"

"Go to Hell," Severus said through his ragged breaths.

The Dark Lord chuckled. "You've always had spirit, Severus," he said. "It was one of the first things I noticed about you. It's too bad you were such a waste. _Crucio_." Again, it was said in a gentle manner.

Severus lost his awareness of the Dark Lord's proximity to his person as the pain flared anew in his veins. It felt as though his blood was boiling. It felt as though every bone in his body had disintegrated to dust. It felt as though his nerves had all been spiked with tiny needles. It felt as though it lasted for hours, though when the curse was finally lifted, Severus knew that it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

"Tell me, Severus," the Dark Lord said, running a finger down Severus' cheek. "Did it never occur to you that I would have someone watching you over the Yule holiday at Hogwarts? Surely you didn't believe that I would leave you there unchecked?"

Despite his desperate situation, Severus began to chuckle. "It never crossed my mind," he replied, and incredibly, he was telling the truth. It never _had_ crossed his mind over the holiday and now he felt like a complete moron. Of _course_ the Dark Lord had someone watching him. Even Dumbledore had told Severus as much, but Severus had assumed that with the school so empty over the break that all of the student spies had gone home to their families.

The Dark Lord favored him with a humorless smile. He reached into Severus' pocket and removed his wand. "That was your fatal mistake. My spy informs me that you were seen leaving the Gryffindor dorms with Harry Potter. My spy says that you seemed very close to the brat, as though you'd become friends. With such closeness to the nuisance, you could have easily lured him away from the protection of the castle. You had every opportunity to bring him to me. I would have rewarded you greatly for bringing my greatest enemy. Instead you chose to protect him, to befriend him and teach him your tricks."

Severus wondered who could have told. His first thought was Draco Malfoy. That boy had every reason to get Severus out of the way. He wondered why it had taken him so long to draw this conclusion. It seemed so obvious. Harry had told him that Draco was jealous of the time Harry spent with his father. Informing the Dark Lord of his actions at Hogwarts would ensure that he was taken out of the equation. "Congratulations," he rasped sarcastically.

The Dark Lord frowned and rose from his crouched position. "I see you have forgotten your lessons in respect," he murmured. "You shall have to remember them." He walked away, and Severus didn't need to be told to know what was coming. As soon as the Dark Lord was no longer in the room, the rest of the Death Eaters laid into him, torturing him for hours before he finally lost consciousness.

**TWO**

Remus watched with concern as Albus paced back and forth in front of his desk. He'd been at Grimauld Place preparing for the Order meeting that evening when the fire had flared and Albus had asked him to come to Hogwarts. Remus had no idea what was going on, but he had an idea that it was bad, if Dumbledore's pacing was anything to go by.

"Albus, what's happened?" he asked when it became clear that the headmaster had forgotten he was there.

"Severus was called last night," Albus said, not even turning to look at Remus. "He still has not returned. I am very worried."

"Could it be possible that Voldemort's sent him on a raid?" Remus asked.

Albus shook his head. "It is possible, of course, but I do not believe that is what has happened. He would have found a way to inform me if that is what happened. I believe he may have been discovered."

Remus gasped, sitting back in his chair in surprise. Snape was the best spy Remus had ever seen. It seemed impossible that he would have been found out. Unfortunately, Albus seemed to think he had and that man's shrewd ideas usually turned out to be fairly accurate.

Albus stopped his pacing at the window, looking out on the grounds with a pensive look on his face. After a moment, he turned to face Remus, leaning back on the windowsill. "I must ask you to help him, Remus," he said.

"What can I do?" Remus asked at once. He may not have _liked_ Snape, but he certainly didn't believe the man deserved to _die_. No one deserved to die the way Voldemort was sure to kill Snape if he'd really been found out.

"Voldemort always holds his meetings at Riddle House," Albus said. "If he has discovered Severus' duplicity, that is where they will be holding him."

"If they've really found him out, how do you know he's still alive?"

"They will want information from him. He alone is in the unique position of being able to tell Voldemort things about Hogwarts and about Harry Potter that no one else would know. Severus will not give up that information, but Voldemort will torture him until he realizes that Severus is not going to tell him. It could take weeks for that to happen. I cannot leave Severus there to suffer for weeks on end."

Remus nodded. "Where is Riddle House?" he asked. "Are there wards up that I should know about before I attempt Apparition?"

Albus seemed to deflate with relief. "Riddle House is in a place called Little Hangleton," he said. "It's a large manor house that is very run down. In the back there is a cemetery—"

"Is it where…?"

Albus nodded. "The very same," he said. "Anti-Apparition wards are set up around the house, but not around the cemetery. In order to reach Severus, you will have to Apparate to the cemetery and find a way into the house from there." They spent a half hour going over what Remus should expect based on the information Snape had given Albus regarding the house. Once Albus felt that Remus was as prepared as he was going to get, Remus left Hogwarts to make a rescue attempt in the very heart of Voldemort's domain. He was not looking forward to it.

**THREE**

The smell of pain and death almost overwhelmed Remus as he appeared in the shady cemetery. Riddle House loomed like a giant relic over the cemetery, casting its shadow like a sentinel. Remus shuddered at the scents attacking his nose; the suffering in this place nearly brought him to his knees. He shook his head vigorously and steeled himself to get the job done. It wouldn't help Snape if Remus couldn't even get up to the house without becoming overwhelmed. Since it was midday, the house appeared virtually empty. Remus hoped that there weren't too many Death Eaters there because, though he was a strong wizard in his own right, he didn't have a lot of experience with dueling and knew that if he were severely outnumbered he wouldn't make it out.

As he drew closer to the house, he threw the borrowed invisibility cloak over his shoulders, hoping against hope that the wards wouldn't announce he presence to Voldemort. The last thing he needed was a showdown with the Dark Lord himself. Taking a deep breath, he moved toward the window and peered inside, his muscles relaxing when he saw the empty drawing room…

**FOUR**

The Dark Lord was crouching next to him, petting his hair again. "Why are you doing this to yourself, Severus?" he asked softly. "If only you'd tell me how to get into that school, I would let you die painlessly. Why don't you help yourself and earn my mercy?"

Severus moved his hand as much as he could with the pain that was shooting up through his joints. "Come closer," he rasped.

A look of undisguised anticipation came over the Dark Lord's snake like features as he bent forward a little bit.

"Closer," Severus rasped again. "I wish to tell you something."

The Dark Lord bent low until his ear was directly over Severus' mouth.

Severus gathered the last of his waning strength and grabbed a hold of the Dark Lord's robes, pulling himself up until his lips were almost touching the psychopath's ear. "Eat me, you snake faced piece of shit," he murmured. "I would rather die than tell you."

The Dark Lord straightened up slowly, his face contorted with anger, but when he spoke, it was very soft. "You disappoint me, Severus," he said. "You know I can keep you alive and in pain as long as it is necessary to garner the information I want. You've seen me do it to others."

Severus, for some reason he could not grasp nor understand, began to laugh hysterically. He thought as he laughed that perhaps he was going mad. He knew the Longbottoms hadn't lasted as long as he had so far before they went mad. "I'll never tell you anything," he gasped through his laughing. The laughing was painful due to his several broken ribs, but it felt cleansing as well.

"I will find out what I want to know," the Dark Lord said as he stood up. "It appears that you need more persuasion. _Crucio_."

Severus' laughing cut off abruptly as the pain spiked through him again. His back arched off the floor momentarily before his whole body curled in on itself in a futile attempt to escape from the pain. His throat was raw and bleeding slightly from all of the screaming he'd taken to doing recently, but he hardly noticed through the pain in the rest of his body. He prayed silently to any deity that would listen for it to just end, one way or another. 'Forgive me, Harry,' he thought desperately, for he didn't know how he would ever survive this suffering.

**FIVE**

Remus crept down the stairs toward the terrible sounds he was certain only he could hear. He had to stop and grab hold of the stair railing when the scent of extreme pain wafted up toward him. He cursed his condition for making him so sensitive to such things before resuming his trek down the stairs, doing his best to ignore the scents and sounds that were reaching him. Once at the bottom, he saw an opened cell to the left. He moved in that direction, listening to the strained sounds emanating from the cell when he froze at the cold voice that spoke then.

"You are a fool, Severus," the voice said, and Remus knew without doubt that it was Voldemort speaking. He passed the cell slightly and watched horror stricken as the deathly white wizard held his wand on Severus, who was curled into a tight ball on the floor trying to scream but unable to do so properly. The strained sound Remus had been hearing were Severus' pained attempts at screaming.

"You could have been great," Voldemort went on, still holding Severus under what was undoubtedly the Cruciatus Curse. "I would have given you power and glory. Now you will die, but only after giving me the information you have."

Remus didn't believe that Severus could even hear what Voldemort was saying. Suddenly Voldemort lifted the curse and stepped back slightly. "Don't worry, Severus," he said. "You will die, I promise you that. I only lament that yours is such wasted talent. You could have been there when I ushered the Wizarding world into a new age of glory. You could have been safe at my side, but instead you chose the losing side." He crouched down next to Severus and pushed his hair away from his sweat and blood coated face. "Do not worry, my pet," he murmured. "I'll make sure that your precious colleagues don't suffer too much. Their deaths won't be nearly as painful as yours."

"Get on with it then," Severus said, his voice sounding gravely. "You're only delaying the inevitable. I do not intend to tell you anything."

Voldemort chuckled slightly. "We shall see about that," he purred. "I have more ways than this of making you talk. In the end, I will have what you know."

"Go straight to the seventh circle of Hell," Severus grated.

"Tut, tut," Voldemort said. He stood up and moved to the end of the cell. "We'll see if we can't loosen your tongue." He cast a Cutting Curse over Severus, who gasped painfully, convulsed for a moment and then fell silent. Voldemort closed the cell with a loud clang, moving away and up the stairs out of sight.

Remus stood silently, waiting, hoping no one would approach before he could get Snape out of there. After about a quarter hour, he moved forward and pulled a knife from his pocket. This knife was exactly like the one Sirius had given Harry. Remus forcibly pushed thoughts of Sirius from his mind and pushed the blade in between the cell door and the bars, wiggling it up and down until he heard the click of the lock coming free. Remus opened the cell just wide enough for him to squeeze inside; thankful that the hinges didn't squeak as he did so. He moved to kneel next to Snape.

"Severus," he whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Snape remained motionless on the floor, blood pooling under him slowly.

Remus began searching Snape's pockets for the Portkey that Dumbledore had said would be there. Dumbledore had told Remus that it was unlikely that the Death Eaters would have searched Snape for such a thing, but if it had indeed been taken Remus was to find a way to get Snape out of the building and Apparate in tandem with him to St. Mungo's. Remus was hoping it wouldn't come down to that.

"Where is it?" he muttered, searching through the pockets frantically. Dumbledore hadn't given him his own Portkey because he said that if they'd found Snape's, they'd know if another came onto the premises. He didn't want to risk Remus as well, he'd said. "Aha!" Remus cried quietly as his hand closed over a small ball in Snape's pocket. He pulled it out slowly, trying not to jostle Snape more than necessary. He grabbed Snape's hand, placed the ball in it, covered it with his own hand and muttered, "Albus." The Portkey activated at once; Remus felt the familiar tug behind his navel and the world began to spin out of control. Just as quickly as it started, it stopped and Remus found himself on the floor in Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore was up and at his side in a moment. "Is he alive?" he asked, placing his hands on Snape's shoulder.

"Yes, but just barely," Remus replied.

"Go to the infirmary and tell Poppy to expect us," Dumbledore said. "We shall be there presently."

Remus nodded and ran as fast as he could toward the infirmary.

**SIX**

Severus felt warm. It seemed that he'd been moved to a bed, which didn't make sense because the Dark Lord would never put him on a bed. He slowly became aware of a hand holding his and he reflexively squeezed the fingers.

"Father?" a timid voice asked, a chair squeaking as the boy presumably sat forward.

Severus forced his eyes open. He realized first that he was at Hogwarts and that the infirmary was dark. 'It's night time then,' he thought. The next thing he realized was that although he was still in pain, it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been. He turned his head slowly to find his son sitting next to him, the shadows playing across his face making him look more worried than he was. Severus took a deep breath and squeezed Harry's hand again. "Safe," he whispered, trying to make it sound louder but failing spectacularly. "Safe," he repeated, though he wasn't talking about himself. He wondered how he'd been saved, but figured it didn't matter as long as Hogwarts still stood.

"Yes, you're safe, Father," Harry replied, and Severus barely registered that Harry hadn't called him 'sir' or 'Severus' but 'Father'. As he fell back into a deep sleep, a small smile graced his features as one last thought found its way into his consciousness… 'My son knows me…'

**SEVEN**

Harry realized at once that Severus had fallen back asleep, but at least he'd woken up. He'd taken to thinking of Severus as 'Father', trying to get a feel for the word in his mind. He realized that calling him that out loud probably provided a wealth of comfort, so he'd decided that he'd do it from now on, even though he still had trouble accepting Severus as his father. It didn't matter to him that Severus would realize this as soon as he saw that the spell hadn't cancelled. What mattered now was that he could help bring the man what comfort he could. After a long time, Harry decided that Severus wasn't going to wake up again, so he got up and went back to Gryffindor Tower.

"How is he?" Hermione asked as soon as he entered. It was very late so the common room was empty aside from her and Ron. They both watched him with concerned expressions, making him thankful that he'd told them the truth about his heritage.

"He woke up for a second," he said, sitting down next to her and leaning his head on her shoulder. He wanted to see Draco. He wanted to hold him and kiss him. He didn't let on about what he wanted. He closed his eyes when he felt Hermione's arm go around his shoulders.

"He's really brave," Hermione said.

Harry nodded silently.

"He's strong too," Hermione went on. "He'll be okay."

"Have they told you what happened?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. He knew his father had been discovered as a spy, but he didn't know the extent of the torture he'd been put under. He wanted to weep, but his eyes remained dry.

"Have they told you anything at all?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head again, still not opening his eyes. The truth was, he had been told a few things, such as the fact that they suspected Draco might have been the one to feed information about Severus to Voldemort. This was part of the reason that Harry wanted to weep. Another part was that he didn't believe it and he hated that others did. He certainly didn't want to tell Ron and Hermione this; they already had enough reason to hate Draco.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I just wish it would stop," Harry whispered. "Why do the gods hate me so much?"

Hermione squeezed his shoulders. "The gods don't hate you, Harry," she said gently. "I can't say why these things happen to you, but I'm sure that's not it."

Harry shrugged a bit. He was beyond caring. He just wanted his life to be normal. He was more than convinced that was impossible, but that didn't stop him from wanting it. He prayed silently that Severus would be okay, and still the snarky git he was before he'd been discovered. He prayed he would still have his father in the end.


	10. It Wasn't Me

**Chapter Ten **

**It Wasn't Me**

**ONE**

Draco waited patiently for Harry to arrive. He'd received a note earlier asking him to meet Harry in their usual place, but it hadn't said why. Usually they met after Harry's detentions, which had continued with Dumbledore since Snape had turned up in the hospital wing. All kinds of rumors were flying around about what had happened to the sour professor, but each was less believable than the last.

Draco had known for some time that Snape was a Death Eater. He'd also known that Snape wasn't loyal to the Dark Lord. It wasn't very difficult for him to figure out; his father was the Dark Lord's right hand man. For example: Snape had been alone with Harry for hours on end every night since the first week of the year. If he were loyal, he'd have found a way to deliver Harry to the Dark Lord, who was obsessed by destroying the diminutive Gryffindor. Snape also spent a great deal of his time conversing with Dumbledore, who trusted him implicitly. Draco didn't much _like_ Dumbledore, but he knew that the old man wasn't stupid. Not even Snape was clever enough to keep his duplicity from the headmaster.

Draco sat down on a desktop, waiting for Harry to arrive and speculating about which rumor was the truth. He suspected that Snape had been found out as a spy within the Dark Lord's circle. What he couldn't understand was how that had happened. Snape was, after all, a talented Occlumens. Draco only knew that because Snape had taught him Occlumency during the summers between his fourth and fifth years at Hogwarts. Aside from that, Snape wasn't likely to have told the Dark Lord that he wasn't a loyal servant. Someone else must have found out and turned him in.

Draco's contemplation was cut short as the classroom door opened and Harry slipped in, closing it softly behind him. It was just after lunch, so Draco was very curious about what Harry wanted with him. Harry, who looked as though his whole world was falling apart around him, stood against the wall and began staring at Draco with round eyes.

"Harry?" Draco asked. "What's up?" He hopped off of the desk.

Harry, instead of answering, brought his hands to his face and began scrubbing at it as though he were washing it.

"Harry?" Draco asked again, beginning to feel concerned.

Harry's hands stopped scrubbing and he pressed them into his eyes for a moment before dropping them back to his sides.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco asked, taking a step forward.

Harry suddenly moved forward, throwing himself into Draco's arms, and promptly burst into tears.

Draco felt dumbfounded as he held tightly to Harry. "What is it, Harry?" he asked again, rubbing gentle circles on Harry's back.

Harry was wailing in apparent misery, his hands fisted into Draco's robes and his face buried in Draco's shoulder. Draco could feel the tears soaking through the fabric of his robes, but he didn't complain. He was worried about what could have caused the normally unflappable Gryffindor to break down this way.

"Harry, talk to me," Draco cooed, trying in vain to stop Harry's sobbing.

Harry didn't seem to hear him though and only cried harder. This uncontrollable sobbing went on for a long time before Harry finally calmed down and pulled away, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Feel better?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded and dropped into a chair.

"What happened?" Draco asked, leaning back against a desk.

Harry was looking down at the floor. "You know Snape's a Death Eater, right?" he asked.

Draco was shocked, to say the least. How did _Harry_ know that? "Yeah," he said carefully, wondering where this was going.

"Voldemort found out that he wasn't loyal to him," Harry went on.

That answered one question, but Draco still wondered what Harry was thinking.

"Snape says one of the students here turned him in," Harry said.

Draco remained silent.

Harry's red eyes came up to look at him. "They think it was you," he said, his voice getting thick again as he held back another torrent of tears.

"What?" Draco asked. "How can they believe that?"

Harry said nothing.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "_You_ don't believe it, do you?" he asked.

"No," Harry said.

Draco crossed the room and dropped into the chair next to Harry.

"Snape believes it, though," Harry whispered. "If they pin it on you, you'll be expelled. You could even end up in Azkaban."

Draco sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. "But I didn't _do_ anything," he muttered.

"I know, but what if they arrest you without asking? What if they send you to prison without a trial? What if—"

"Enough, Harry! Asking 'what if' isn't going to help things."

"Are you going to take the Dark Mark?" Harry asked suddenly.

"I don't have much of a choice, Harry," Draco replied tiredly.

"There's _always_ a choice."

"My father demands it. What am I supposed to do?"

"Yeah? Sirius refused it. His family disowned him for it, but he got out."

"His family _disowned_ him. If I refuse, my father isn't going to _disown_ me. He'll _kill_ me."

"How will he manage that from Azkaban?" Harry asked.

Draco glared at him. "The Dementors are ready to revolt!" he snapped. "He's not going to be in Azkaban forever!"

Harry sighed and rubbed his hand over his face again. For a moment, Draco was worried that Harry would start crying again, but he didn't. "I'm sorry," he muttered instead. "I'm just scared to death and I don't know how to deal with it."

Draco sighed. "I'll figure something out," he said softly. "I just need time to think."

"And what about Snape?"

"I'll take care of that." Draco waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry so much, they can't pin anything on me. For once, I really didn't do it."

Harry chuckled sardonically. "For once," he agreed.

Draco smacked him in the back of the head. "Prat," he groused.

"Bastard," Harry returned with a smile, rubbing his head slightly.

Draco smiled, glad that Harry wasn't crying any longer. He'd never seen Harry so upset and it bothered him. He rather liked smiling Harry better. Hell, even scowling, angry Harry was better than weeping Harry. Draco stood up and stretched his back until he felt it pop, at which point he sighed satisfactorily. "I'd better go take care of this Snape problem," he said. As he started to walk passed, Harry reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he cautioned.

Draco smirked. "Well, that gives me a lot of room to work with then, doesn't it?"

Harry released Draco's hand, shaking his head, but he was smiling. "Get out of here, cheeky git."

"You know you love it," Draco replied, bending to place a kiss on Harry's forehead. He left the room swiftly, a plan already forming in his mind.

**TWO**

The rest of the day's classes seemed to drag on endlessly. Draco tapped his fingers irritably through almost the entirety of his last class, History of Magic, until at last the bell rang. He hadn't even bothered to remove his supplies from his bag, so he just grabbed it and rocketed out of the room. He went to Snape's Corridor, as the Slytherins called it, and waited for Dumbledore to walk away from the Potions room. After he was sure that the coast was clear, Draco magicked his way into the room, heading straight for Snape's private Potions stores. He sincerely hoped that Snape had what he was looking for on hand, because Draco doubted he had time to brew it.

He scanned the shelves quickly, reading Snape's tidy labels until at last he found what he was looking for. He grabbed the small vial off of the shelf, putting it into his pocket, and went straight to the hospital wing. He knew he was risking Snape's ire, stealing a potion that way, but it was the only way anyone would believe he hadn't set Snape up.

**THREE**

Severus was grumbling discontentedly as Poppy bustled about him, feeding him potions he didn't want and casting spells over his person without abandon. At last, she relented, ordering him not to attempt getting out of bed on his own. Severus glared at her and his mood only got worse, when it had absolutely no effect. "Bloody woman," he groused unhappily.

"She's only trying to help, Severus," Dumbledore said from the door, startling Severus.

"Damn it, Albus," he grumped. "Announce your presence!"

Albus chuckled and sat down next to Severus' bed. "How are you feeling, my boy?" he asked gently.

"Like I've been trampled by a rampaging dragon in heat," Severus snapped in reply.

Albus chuckled again. "That's understandable after what happened to you. I must say, I was most relieved when Remus returned with you."

Severus crossed his arms petulantly over his chest. "You may tell the werewolf that I don't hate him as much as I used to."

"That's very gracious of you, Severus," Albus said, patting Severus' arm.

Severus ground his teeth together and said nothing.

"I wish to discuss this suspicion of yours concerning young Mr. Malfoy," Albus commented, ignoring Severus' attitude.

"What is there to discuss?" Severus asked. "I've told you everything that happened."

"Yes, but I would like to know what makes you believe it was Draco. Perhaps it could be another student."

Severus snorted inelegantly. "Please, Albus. How many other students in this school are the children of the Dark Lord's right hand?"

"Severus, I'm surprised at you. You, of all people, should know what it's like to break away from your parents. If I recall correctly, your own father was fairly involved with the Dark Lord during his first rise."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Yes, Albus, I get your point."

"Very good!" Albus exclaimed. "Then we needn't draw conclusions too quickly!"

"Who else do you suspect then, if not Draco?" Severus asked, glaring at the old man ineffectually.

"We'll find the culprit, Severus, not to worry. I'd just like to do it properly. I wouldn't want an innocent to suffer for another's crimes."

Severus waved his hand impatiently. "Yes, yes, be noble, don't point fingers and all the rest of your Gryffindor morals. I get it."

Albus' eyes were twinkling madly, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, the doors of the infirmary opened and admitted Draco Malfoy.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Albus said cheerily, turning in his seat to look at the blonde. "Come to see your Head of House? How lovely." He started to get up.

"Please, sir," Draco said. "If you could stay, I would appreciate it."

"Of course, dear child," Albus replied, sitting back down, his eyes twinkling more than ever.

'_Barmy old codger,'_ Severus thought as he glared at Albus irritably.

Draco crossed the room almost nervously, seating himself on the other side of Severus' bed.

"What is it, Mr. Malfoy?" Severus snapped after a long moment of silence.

"I've come to prove my innocence," Draco replied.

"And just how do you intend to do that?" Severus asked with a raised brow.

He noted with satisfaction that Draco swallowed. The boy reached into his pocket and withdrew a small vial, passing it to Severus silently.

Severus narrowed his eyes before snatching the vial from the boy's hand. He squinted down at the label, recognizing his own tidy scrawl. _Veritaserum_ it read. Severus turned his glare back to his student. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"Er, I stole it from your private storeroom," Draco replied, shifting in his seat.

Severus glared at the boy impatiently.

"Well, I figured it would be the only way you'd believe what I said," Draco explained, snatching the vial back. He popped the cork and dripped three drops onto his tongue. His eyes went glassy and his posture relaxed.

Severus turned incredulous eyes on the headmaster only to find the man's eyes bright with excitement. Shaking his head a bit, Severus turned his gaze back to Draco. "What did you do on Christmas day?" he asked.

"I woke up late," Draco replied in a flat voice. "I went to the Great Hall to have breakfast and wait for Harry. I got upset because Harry didn't show. When I left the Hall, I saw Harry and Professor Snape crossing the Entrance Hall together, talking about something Professor Snape had in his hand. I was too far away to see what it was. I went back to my dorm to find out what Harry was doing—"

"How?" Severus interrupted.

"Harry gave me a Seeing Ball for Christmas," Draco replied.

Severus eyes widened in astonishment. Seeing Balls were extremely rare and hard to find. They were dangerous objects if placed in the wrong hands because they could see into any location, no matter the spells erected. Not even the Dark Lord had possession of a Seeing Ball. What had Harry been thinking, giving one of those to Draco Malfoy?

"I asked it to show me Harry," Draco went on obliviously. "It told me that Harry was in a secured location, so I couldn't see what he was doing."

This new information came as an even bigger surprise. If Draco couldn't see what Harry had been doing, that meant that Harry had either adjusted the spells on the Seeing Ball to prevent it from looking into protected locations, or he'd created the Ball himself.

"I did my Transfiguration essay and tried again, but it said the same thing. I waited for a while and tried again. I saw Harry in the corridor, speaking to Professor Snape. He told Professor Snape that he had plans with me for that evening so he couldn't come by. They wished each other Happy Christmas then Harry began walking away. I went to a secret passage out of the dungeons so that I could meet Harry in the Entrance Hall. I accused Harry of carrying on an affair with Professor Snape. Harry told me they'd simply made a truce but nothing else was happening beside his detentions. We went back to the Slytherin common room. We played chess for a while, we talked, we played Exploding Snap, and then we went to my bedroom and made love before falling asleep."

Severus had to fight the blush that wanted to rise at hearing about his son having sex with Draco.

"Did you inform Voldemort of Severus' activities from that day?" Albus said, chuckling lightly. Severus glared at him.

"No," Draco said.

"Have you ever informed on Severus to Voldemort?" Albus asked.

"No," Draco replied.

"Have you ever informed on Severus to your father?"

"Sometimes."

"When was the last time you informed on Severus to your father?"

"Last year, before he was sent to Azkaban."

"What did you tell him?"

"That Professor Snape was cooperating with Umbridge and helping her to get Harry expelled."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "Have you ever informed on Severus to anyone besides your father?"

"No."

Severus stared at the boy. So it hadn't been Draco after all. Perhaps the Dark Lord had been lying? If so, then where had he truly gotten the information, from another faculty member perhaps? That just didn't make sense. Dumbledore trusted all of the people on faculty. Who could it have been? "What are your feelings toward Harry?" Severus asked with narrowed eyes.

"Don't answer that, Draco," Albus said sharply, giving Severus a warning look. "That is not what we are here for, Severus," he reprimanded.

Severus shrugged, not feeling at all sorry. It had been worth a try.

"You may go, Draco," Albus said firmly.

Draco rose from his chair and left the room, still looking distinctly dazed.

**FOUR**

Harry was waiting anxiously outside of the hospital wing, hoping that whatever Draco had done had worked. Draco came out looking very dazed, not even seeming to notice Harry there. Harry grabbed his arm to get his attention. "What did you do?" he asked.

Draco stared blankly for a moment. "I don't understand the question," he said.

"Just now, what did you do?" Harry asked again.

"I told Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape what I did over Christmas," Draco replied.

"Did they believe you?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"How did you get them to believe you?"

"I took Veritaserum.'

Harry's eyes drifted closed of their own accord. That was a dangerous thing to do, but he understood why Draco had done it. "Come on," he muttered, dragging a compliant Draco down the hall to the nearest empty classroom. Once inside, he pushed Draco down into a seat and began pacing, waiting for the potion to wear off.

Draco stared blankly at the wall opposite.

"Why'd you have to go and take Veritaserum, eh?" Harry demanded angrily.

"So that Professor Snape would believe I hadn't turned him in to the Dark Lord," Draco replied.

"You could have found another way!" Harry snapped. "Where'd you get that potion, anyway?"

"I stole it from Professor Snape's private storeroom."

Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Well that was a stupid thing to do! What do you think Snape's gonna do about that, huh? Tell me that!"

Draco stared blankly for a long time before saying, "I do not know what Professor Snape will do to me for breaking into his private storeroom and stealing a potion."

"Stop talking!" Harry snapped at him. "Just don't say anything until that potion wears off, yeah?"

"I don't understand the question," Draco said.

"Oh, for the love of…" Harry muttered. "I wasn't asking a question." He continued pacing restlessly; wanting to tell Draco off properly for his recklessness once the blonde could fight back. Draco didn't seem to notice.


	11. St Valentine's Day

**Chapter Eleven**

**St. Valentine's Day**

**ONE**

Draco had found it most unfair when Harry went off on him for stealing Snape's Veritaserum. Draco hadn't even gotten into trouble for it, for crying out loud! Harry would have done the same thing if it had been him, but he just went off about how reckless and dangerous that it had been. Draco couldn't believe it, but as much as it angered him, it amused him as well. Harry had obviously been very worried about Draco, and vented that worry by getting angry. It was cute… in an overprotective sort of way.

Now it was February; it was cold, the ground was covered with snow, Draco was grumpy because of the bad weather, and Harry wanted to get together for St. Valentine's Day. Draco had never, _never_ celebrated St. Valentine's Day. It was so Catholic, so… _Muggle_! It was enough of an insult to Wizard kind that Hogwarts recognized the holiday at all, and now Harry wanted to celebrate with him. It was so… _beneath_ both of them! With a sigh, Draco had agreed because it made Harry happy. He felt that he might be loosing his mind. St. Valentine's Day… _honestly_.

"I think we should just stay inside," Harry said with a silly little smile on his face. "We could have a private dinner, and maybe I could get Dobby to nick us some wine."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You do realize you're acting like a girl, don't you?" he asked, watching Harry fondly from his perch on top of his usual desk.

Harry, who was lying on his back on the floor, ignored the jab. "Maybe we could spell the room like we're outside," he went on. "You know, like Firenze did last year when he was teaching Divination."

"I don't even _recognize_ this bloody holiday," Draco replied. "I'll let you make all of the arrangements."

Harry turned to look at him, his goofy smile fading into a frown. "I don't care about St. Valentine. I don't even know why he's a saint. I just think it's romantic, but if you really don't want to do anything, we don't have to."

Draco waved him off with a small smile. "I'm sure it'll be fun," he assured. "I just don't see why it has to be on St. Valentine's Day. I mean, it's not like we're Muggles. We're not even _Christian_, for God's sake! What difference does it make? We can be romantic whenever we feel like it."

Harry's frown deepened. "What makes you think I'm not a Christian?" he asked.

Draco couldn't help it: he laughed. He laughed so hard his sides started to hurt and tears streamed down his cheeks. Harry looked most annoyed, which only made Draco laugh harder, gripping the stitch that had taken hold of him. After a while, he finally got control of his mirth.

"I don't see what's so funny," Harry said grumpily.

Draco, still chuckling lightly, tried to lighten Harry's mood. "Harry, you and I are the complete antithesis of Christianity. If we lived in the middle ages, those Christians out there wouldn't hesitate to burn us at the stake. It even says in their bible, 'thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'. You can't be a wizard and a Christian at the same time. You'd be a walking oxymoron."

Harry cracked a smile. "I guess you're right," he muttered.

"Ha!" Draco crooned, punching the air in victory.

"Don't get cocky," Harry said. "You're not going to hear me say that very often."

Draco chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind," he said.

"You make sure you do," Harry snipped.

Draco chuckled again and waved his hand vaguely. "Carry on with your romantic pish posh."

Harry glared at him half-heartedly before doing just that.

**TWO**

Severus watched with amusement as Airy spun about happily, reveling in the sunlight. Harry had a bemused expression on his face as he watched Airy's antics.

"Look at the birds!" she exclaimed, pointing out a small nest of birds that hadn't migrated for the winter. "Listen to 'em! Their wee little voices are just splendid!"

Severus wondered how long it had been since Airy had seen the sun.

"Look at how the sun shines off of the snow!" she exclaimed, dropping to roll about in it. She was making a spectacle of herself, but Severus didn't mind. He found it endearing.

Harry looked around. "It always looks like this in the winter time," he said, frowning at the woman, who was in the process of making a snow angel.

"It's so beautiful!" she cried, standing up and dusting herself off. She tilted her head back, the hood of her cloak falling back to expose her flaming red hair. "Look at how blue the sky is! Not a cloud up there!"

"Harry!" Ms. Granger called, coming toward them at a run, Mr. Weasley close behind her. She seemed to freeze when she noticed Severus standing there, smirking at her evilly.

"Leave her alone, Father," Harry muttered with a smile, waving his friends over.

Severus decided to turn his attention back to the overenthusiastic Irish woman, who was now marveling at the color of the lake. She noticed Harry's friends and came over. "Hiya!" she said happily, brushing her hair back.

"Oh, hello," Ms. Granger said uncertainly.

"Hermione, Ron," Harry said, "this is Arêthüsa Bennet. Airy, this is Ron and Hermione, my two best friends in the world."

"Oh, this is your mum's friend?" Ms. Granger asked, her eyes lighting up as she offered her hand.

"Tell them about me, did ya?" Airy asked with a chuckled. "Don't believe anythin' he says. I'm not all bad."

"Hey, she does talk like she's auditioning to be an auctioneer," Mr. Weasley commented. Ms. Granger smacked him forcefully. "Ow!" he cried, rubbing his arm.

Severus had to forcefully keep himself from rolling his eyes.

"Said that, did ya?" Airy said, turning an amused look on a very red Harry Potter.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Ah, don' worry about it," Airy waved it off. "I get that all the time. Talk faster than most people think, so I do. I try not to talk so fast, but it just comes out that way. You wouldn't believe how much I got the mickey in school for it. Arêthüsa motor-mouth; that was me."

Ms. Granger looked torn between amusement at Airy's fast-talking and disapproval at how she was treated in school. Severus marveled at how the girl could have two so very different emotions showing on her face at the same time. "That was really wrong of them!" she exclaimed.

Airy just laughed. "Ah, I didn't mind it," she said. "I know I talk fast."

"Lighten up, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said. He turned his gaze back to Airy. "You could be a Weasley with that hair."

Airy laughed long and loud, wrapping her arm around an uncomfortable Ronald Weasley, who turned bright red. "That I could!" Airy exclaimed happily. "I'd fit right in with you lot!"

Mr. Weasley turned pleading eyes on Harry.

Harry put his hands up. "Don't look at me," he said. "_I _can't control her."

Even Ms. Granger was giggling now.

Airy turned a bit and spotted Hagrid's dog Fang bounding out of the forest.

"A dog!" she cried, releasing Mr. Weasley's shoulders and running toward Fang. Fang jumped up to meet her as soon as she was close enough. She fell back to the ground and wrestled around with Fang. "What a good doggie! Yes yeh are, yer a good doggie." She scratched vigorously behind Fang's ears.

"All right', Airy?" Hagrid asked with a smile, appearing from the trees.

"Hagrid!" Airy greeted. "I love yer dog! I'm stealing him away from yeh!"

"Take him," Hagrid said. "He's useless anyway."

"Oh, you hear that, doggie?" Airy said. "You want a new mummy?"

Severus actually _did_ roll his eyes that time.

"His name's Fang," Hagrid supplied.

"Fang?" Airy asked. "What kind of name is that fer such a good doggie?" She turned her attention back to the dog in question. "Who's a good doggie? Yer a good doggie, en't ya? Yes ya are!"

Harry started laughing, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

"What?" Airy asked as Harry's friends joined in his mirth.

Harry just shook his head, trying to get hold of his humor.

Airy stood up, dusting off her bottom with one hand and continuing to pet Fang with the other. "So I like dogs," she said. "There's nothin' wrong with that."

"So yeh all know each other, then?" Hagrid asked, placing his crossbow by the door to his hut.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "How are you, Hagrid? How's Grawp?"

"Oh, he's fine, Harry," Hagrid said, looking at Severus nervously. "Just a bit lonely, yeh know? It's hard ter find him a girlfriend. I'm comin' along though. Shouldn't be too much longer."

"Oh," Harry said, his brow creasing a bit.

"Er, that's nice, Hagrid," Ms. Granger said, her face taking on the same concerned expression.

Severus found himself wondering just who Grawp was and why the thought of him having a girlfriend would make these children so nervous.

"Don't you all start worryin' yer heads about Grawp," Hagrid chastised, patting Harry on the shoulder so forcefully his knees buckled a little bit. "He's my responsibility and I'm takin' good care o' him."

"Who's Grawp?" Airy asked with interest.

Hagrid seemed to get a tad nervous again. "Oh, he's just a friend o' mine," he said. "Not very bright, though, needs lookin' after."

Airy nodded. "I understand that, Hagrid," she said. "Why, one time I met this woman—"

"Is this going to be one of your drawn out ramblings?" Severus interrupted. "Because if so, I'd rather pass."

Airy stuck her tongue out at him. "Yer just no fun anymore, Severus."

"I never claimed to be."

"How long are you here, Arêthüsa?" Harry asked.

"As long as I like, Harry!" Airy replied. "I've got…" she looked up at the sun, "twenty hours left I'd say."

"Why do you only have twenty hours?" Ms. Granger asked.

Airy's head snapped around to look at her. "I've got meetin's an' such," she said.

Ms. Granger was looking at Airy shrewdly, as if she was trying to figure something out, which, Severus reminded himself, she probably was. He walked to Airy's side and began leading her back to the school.

"Never say anything in front of Hermione Granger if you've got a secret," he muttered in Airy's ear. "She's the smartest witch this school has seen in years."

"I'd better watch meself, then," Airy commented, looking over her shoulder at the bushy haired teen.

"Indeed," Severus agreed, putting a bit more distance between them. "Will you be staying about during lunch?"

"I thought I'd sit with Harry and his friends," Airy replied.

"Do you _want_ Ms. Granger to figure you out? Go to the library or something while they eat."

"So skipping lunch all together is less obvious than being in the same place and not eating?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "It is feasible that you could have food with you elsewhere while you do your research. They couldn't _prove_ that you didn't eat anything."

Airy pulled a flask from inside her cloak and took a long swig, her eyes on Severus as she did so. After putting the flask back on her hip, she spoke. "All righ', Severus. I'll just go and hide in yer rooms until their done eating."

Severus nodded. "I know you don't want to, and I'm sorry for the necessity, but surely you understand why it must be done."

Airy nodded. "I know. She's the one then, is she? Who figured out Lupin in 93?"

Severus chuckled. "Yes, she's the one."

Airy nodded again, heading for the stairs. "I'll see you after lunch, then," she said.

Severus waved a bit before entering the Great Hall, Harry and his friends behind him.

"Hey, why isn't she staying with us for lunch?" Harry asked.

"She has some research to do," Severus replied. "She's going to use some of my books and eat while she works. She wasted all of her research time playing around in the snow like a toddler."

Harry chuckled. "Okay," he said. He and his friends took their seats and began chatting amicably, presumably about Arêthüsa Bennet and her oddness. Severus wished he could say she was strange because of her condition, but he'd be lying. She'd always been a strange one.

**THREE**

Harry was glaring at his father angrily. He was on another 'Draco Malfoy isn't good enough for you' kick, and he just wouldn't let up. Harry didn't want to hear Father's unreasonable yelling anymore.

"You don't know anything about him!" he yelled, clenching his fists in his lap. "You don't have any right to say those things!"

"I don't _need_ to know him!" Father yelled back, standing up from behind his desk and hitting his hands upon the top. "I know that he's going to be the death of you! You care entirely too much about that boy! I'm telling you that he does not feel the same! He _cannot_!"

Harry stood up too, hitting the desktop with a closed fist. "Why not!" he demanded. "Am I not good enough? Or is it that I'm too good for anyone? Will you _ever_ be happy with anyone I choose?"

"What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Father screamed, throwing his hands up. "I know damned—"

"Severus!" Arêthüsa snapped, coming out of the other room where she had been waiting. "I need a word with you!"

"Not now, Airy," Father groused, grinding his teeth together.

"_Right_ now!" Airy snapped, holding the door opened behind her.

Father let his breath out in a rush. "You stay here!" he said, pointing at Harry. He stormed passed Airy, glaring at her angrily. She closed the door with a snap.

"Yer the most insensitive jerk I've ever met!" she yelled, the door not doing much to drown out her voice.

"How _dare_ you criticize the way I raise my son!" Father yelled right back.

"Ya canna treat him like a baby! He's grown! Yer job is to protect him and guide him, not issue demands! He's never gonna accept you if yeh keep on like this!"

It became very quiet behind the door, so Harry moved around the desk and pressed his ear against the wood to listen.

"I don't believe he'll _ever_ accept me," Father muttered, sounding suddenly defeated and tired. "I don't know how to be a father."

Someone sighed heavily. "Yeh have to give him time, so ya do," Airy said gently. "This is very delicate, yeh know. Yeh can't just say 'I'm yer da' and expect him to be okay with that. Yeh have to show him that yeh _care_."

"I'm trying, Airy," Father said. "I don't know what else to do."

"Why are yeh so against Draco?" Airy asked. "Kids have to make their own mistakes, so they do. They canna learn if yeh don't let them make some mistakes."

"I don't want him to end up like me," Father replied. "Draco will most probably betray him. I don't want him to lose his faith in humanity the way I have. I don't want him to become bitter and alone."

"I know that, Severus, but he's not you. He handles things differently than you do. He's more his mother's son; he inherited her trust in people."

Father gave a very shaky sigh. "I know. I've noticed that, but I'm so afraid for him. I just… I love him so much. I'd die if anything happened to him."

Harry's eyes grew very wide at that and he retreated back to the desk, falling into his seat gracelessly. He leaned his elbow on the desk, placing his hand over his mouth, thinking. 'He loves me. He really, truly looks at me as his son. I thought he was just making an effort. I thought he viewed me more as a favorite nephew. He's… my _father_. My father loves me. I have a father who loves me!' His heart swelled with a feeling of such happiness that he completely forgot their previous argument. That feeling was so overpowering that tears came to his eyes. He tried to hold them back, but could not. He began sobbing, resting his head on his arms on the desk, crying with happiness at the knowledge that he had a father who loved him for who he was, in spite of their terrible history together.

The door opened, admitting Father and Airy, who both froze when they saw Harry weeping.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Father asked urgently, coming around the desk and placing his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry launched himself into his father's arms, hugging him tightly. "What is it, Harry?" Father asked again, squeezing him protectively.

"Nothing," Harry said, a smile gracing his face even as the tears continued to fall. "I've never _been_ so happy."

Father pulled back to look at Harry and his eyes widened with surprise. Harry felt somewhat concerned at the expression. "What's the matter?" he asked, frowning. He turned to look at Airy only to find the same expression on her face. His glasses were streaked, making his vision fuzzy, so he took them off, surprised when the world came clear. "What?" he asked again.

Airy held out her wand. "Accio hand mirror!" she cried. A small mirror came zooming out of Father's bathroom and landed neatly in her hand. She passed this to Harry.

Harry frowned at her once more before lifting the mirror and looking into it. His eyes widened at what he saw. His eyes, still brilliantly green, were surrounded by a face he didn't recognize; his cheekbones were higher and more defined than they had been, taking away the boyish roundness he was so used to. His lips were thinner and longer, but not as thin as Father's, his hair was laying flat on his head and there was a large red patch over his right temple. He brought his hand up to touch his new face, only to become distracted by his fingers, which were longer and more elegant than before. He dropped his hands to his lap, staring at the two adults with wide eyes.

Father was smiling widely. He brought his hands up and began touching Harry's face all over. "He's beautiful," he murmured, tears coming to his eyes but not spilling over. "He's so perfect! He still has Lily's nose and eyes." His hand ran through Harry's hair. "He has a birthmark, look!" he exclaimed, running his fingers over the red patch of hair over Harry's temple.

His hands went down to pick up Harry's hands. He held Harry's hand gently, manipulating the joints. "He has my hands," he whispered. "Airy, look, he has my hands!"

"So he does, Severus," Airy replied, a soft smile gracing her lips.

Father continued to touch Harry as though memorizing him, acting like a man who had just watched his child being born. "He has my mother's cheeks," he said, moving his hand back to Harry's face. "And my brow." He ran a finger over Harry's eyebrow.

Harry smiled tentatively at his father.

"This is my son," Father whispered, cupping Harry's face, apparently done with his memorization. "This is my _son_!" He pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug, which Harry returned happily.

"Well, this is a lovely development, I must say," Airy commented.

Father began laughing, a truly happy sound that made Harry's heart swell with happiness again. "Yes, it is!" Father agreed, still laughing and hugging Harry close.

Harry pulled back out of the hug, biting his lip nervously.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Father asked, looking somewhat unsure of himself.

"I think I need a new name," Harry replied.

Father's eyes widened. "Why?" he asked.

"Well, I look different, don't I?" Harry said. "Besides, Harry James Snape just sounds stupid."

Father chuckled. "What do you wish to be called?" he asked.

"I thought you could decide, since you're my dad and all," Harry replied. From the corner of his eye he saw Airy beaming at the two of them.

Father cupped his face again, pressing a kiss to Harry's forehead. He thought for a moment then said, "What about Octavian?"

"I like that," Harry agreed.

"He needs a middle name, Severus," Airy informed them.

Father smiled. "Septimus," he said. "Octavian Septimus Snape."

Harry smiled brightly. "That's a good name."

Airy cleared her throat gently causing both men to look at her. "Not to ruin the moment," she said, "but this presents a bit of a problem."

"What problem?" Father asked, pulling Harry close.

"Well, he can't very well go back out to school lookin' like that, can he?" Airy replied.

Harry frowned. She was right, of course.

Father looked crestfallen, but he didn't disagree. "Yes, of course," he muttered. "Well, transfiguration is your area, so I'll just let you put him back for now."

"It won't be permanent, will it?" Harry asked nervously. He rather liked his new look.

Airy smiled kindly. "No, Harry," she said. "Just until yeh finished school. Once yer out there in the world, yeh won't need the glamour any more."

Harry nodded. Airy pointed her wand at him, muttering under her breath. It felt as though a warm breeze was blowing across his skin. After a moment, it stopped and Harry picked up the hand mirror to find himself looking like he had before. He sighed.

Airy crossed the room, picked up his glasses, tapped her wand to them and handed them back to Harry. He put them on to find they didn't affect his vision at all.

"Just plain glass now, Harry," Airy informed him. "This way no one will be the wiser."

Harry nodded. "I'd better go," he said. He turned to his father. "I'll see you tomorrow… Dad," he said.

Father smiled. "Yes, tomorrow." He hugged Harry tightly again before letting him go on his way.

**FOUR**

Draco had to admit that Harry's romantic little hideaway was quite nice, despite the fact it was St. Valentine's Day. He sat next to Harry on the blanket that had been spread out on the now mossy floor and looked up at the enchanted ceiling, which was a clear baby blue.

Harry was spreading out food from a basket he'd gotten from Dobby. Draco noticed that most of the foods were things he truly enjoyed eating, and found himself pleased with that thought. Harry wanted him to enjoy himself.

"This looks lovely," he said, making himself comfortable.

"I'm glad you think so," Harry replied with a small smile. He passed Draco a piece of steak and kidney pie on a paper plate. They ate their way through all of the delicious foods, chatting about nonsense and generally enjoying each other's company.

"I've got a surprise for dessert," Harry said, once the main dishes were gone.

"Oh?" Draco asked, secretly hoping dessert was Harry and not actual food.

Harry reached into the basket and pulled out a large dish of fresh strawberries and a bowl of melted chocolate. He picked up one of the berries, dipped it in the chocolate and brought it up to his mouth, letting the chocolate dribble onto his tongue. Draco stared with wide eyes as Harry began licking the chocolate from the berry before take a big, juicy bite. Either he didn't know how sexy that was, or he was doing it just to torture Draco.

Harry reached into the bowl again. "Have a berry, Draco," he said in a voice that suggested that he knew _exactly_ how sexy it was. He dipped the second berry and reached across the space, rubbing the chocolate on Draco's lips. Draco opened his mouth and sucked the chocolate from the berry, marveling at the flavor before eating the entire berry in one bite.

"Look at that," Harry said, throwing the top away. "You've got chocolate on your face." He leaned the rest of the way and began licking the chocolate from Draco's chin. Draco could already feel the stirrings of arousal in his gut as Harry's tongue laved at his skin. Once Harry had gotten all of the confection off of Draco's skin, he moved that exploring tongue to Draco's mouth, kissing him deeply.

Draco was most happy with this dessert. He leaned back until he was lying down, Harry spread on top of him, his hands tangled in Harry's messy hair. Harry's hands were rubbing Draco's thighs, making burning trails wherever they touched. He reached up and began undoing Draco's buttons, never breaking his slow kiss.

"Beautiful," he murmured as he pushed the offending fabric away from Draco's flesh.

Draco reached up to begin work on Harry's buttons, but Harry batted his hands away.

"Tut, tut," he said. "No one said you could do that." He held Draco's hands down as he kissed his way down Draco's torso, laving at the navel greedily.

Harry reached back, picked up the bowl of chocolate, sat up until he was straddling Draco and began pouring the chocolate on his chest. "Dear me," he purred. "I've spilled the chocolate. I'd better clean it up." He bent forward and began licking the chocolate off of Draco's skin. Draco arched up into that wicked mouth, loving the feel of Harry's tongue as it licked the sticky chocolate from him.

"Harry," he gasped, trying again to reach Harry's clothes. Harry allowed it this time, which made Draco inordinately happy as he began to expose the pale flesh beneath. "Naughty," he murmured when he discovered that Harry was nude beneath the school robe. He stretched up and began kissing the area where Harry's neck met his shoulders.

"Mmm, Draco," Harry said, rubbing his considerable erection against Draco's bare stomach. He bent close until his mouth was next to Draco's ear. "I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his hot breath brushing Draco's earlobe pleasurably. "I want to be surrounded by your tight heat when I come."

Draco growled as he arched up into Harry, craving that touch. "Yes, Harry," he said. "Touch me. Fill me. Take me. I need to feel you." He kissed around Harry's ears, and down his neck, running his hands over every bit of skin he could reach.

They made slow passionate love, that nearly drove Draco to distraction, but showed him how much Harry really cared for him. Harry collapsed on top of him at the end of it, running a hand through his platinum locks. He kissed Draco all over his face before rolling off to lie next to him.

"That was amazing," Draco said as Harry's head came to rest on his chest.

"Isn't it always?" Harry replied, rubbing gently between Draco's nipples.

"Always," Draco agreed, pulling Harry's body closer. 'Maybe St. Valentine's Day has its good spots after all,' he thought with a smile as he drifted off to sleep.

**FIVE**

Draco stretched languidly in his bed, looking forward to seeing Harry at breakfast, even if he couldn't be near him. He wanted to see that beautiful smile when Harry entered the Great Hall with his friends. He got out of bed, went to his trunk and took out his Seeing Ball, sitting on the edge of his bed with the Ball held gingerly in his hands.

"Show me Harry James Potter," he told it. The green mist swirled quickly inside it until a window seemed to open inside. Harry, incredibly, was still sleeping. Draco chuckled at the sight. Suddenly, two hands appeared from out of the Ball's periphery, shaking Harry vigorously.

"Harry, mate, wake up!" Weasley's voice said loudly. "Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty!"

Harry batted the offending hands away. "'M sleepy," he mumbled, turning over.

"No doing, mate!" Weasley said, shaking his friend again. "Hogsmeade weekend today! Come on, get up and come to breakfast so we can go!"

Harry rolled onto his back, opened his eyes and glared at Weasley. "Fine, I'm up," he muttered. "Can I at least have a shower before I head to breakfast?"

Weasley chuckled. "Sure, just hurry up. I want to get to Honeyduke's before they run out of the good stuff."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, throwing the blankets off and rubbing his eyes. "I'm coming."

"Enough," Draco said, placing the Ball back in its drawer in his desk. He chuckled at Harry's antics as he dressed and headed to the Great Hall for his own breakfast. He'd just spooned some scrambled eggs onto his plate when the doors opened and Harry walked in. He smiled briefly in Draco's direction before heading to the Gryffindor table to join his friends.

Draco bent to his meal to hide his smile. He glanced up through his fringe just as Professor Fitzpatrick tripped on his own robes and fell across Harry and Weasley. Many students chuckled as the professor straightened up, his face turning a most unflattering shade of red, and straightened Harry's robes.

"So sorry, Potter," he said, causing the students to start laughing again. He moved to the head table with his head down. Draco watched him with a furrowed brow. Professor Fitzpatrick was an odd man, with mousy brown hair, freckles across his nose, hazel colored eyes, and barely any body weight. The man was practically a wraith he was so thin. He looked like a good stiff wind would knock him over. His head snapped back to the Gryffindor table when he heard a blood-curdling scream.

"Harry!" Granger cried, jumping up just as Harry fell over backwards off of the bench seat. Harry began writhing on the floor, screaming in what sounded like extreme agony. He was clutching his stomach as he rolled around on the floor, his head thrown back as he screamed.

Draco jumped to his feet just as Snape launched himself from the head table toward where Harry lay. Just as Snape reached him, Harry began smoking as though he were on fire, his screams doubling ten fold.

Snape whipped off his outer robe without thinking and threw it over Harry's body, effectively hiding him from view. He lifted the boy seemingly without effort and left the Great Hall at a run, Weasley and Granger right behind him.

Draco waited a moment before leaving the Hall himself, heading toward his room. Once there, he got out his Seeing Ball.

"Show me Harry James Potter," he said anxiously. The mist swirled about quickly before forming words. _Harry Potter is in a secured location_, it informed him. Draco cursed fluently, nearly throwing the Ball across the room before calming down enough to put it away. He was scared to death. He didn't know what to do with himself and so began pacing. The day wore on endlessly until it was finally time for dinner. He went to the Great Hall, hoping for some kind of news about what had happened to Harry.

The Hall was nearly silent as Dumbledore rose to his feet, tapping his glass unnecessarily to gain the students' attention. "Harry Potter was the unfortunate victim of an attack this morning at breakfast," he said, his voice sounding more dangerous than molten steel. "We are working now to discover the culprit. Know that whoever is responsible for this will be expelled from Hogwarts and held in Ministry custody until a trial can be held. It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Mr. Potter did not survive this attack."

Draco's world froze. He heard Granger screaming, but it sounded as though she was miles away. He heard the sudden uproar around him, but hardly noticed it. Harry couldn't be dead; he just _couldn't_ be.

"The memorial service will be held on Monday, out near the lake," Dumbledore said gently as the sound levels went down in the Hall. Draco scanned the head table only to find that Snape wasn't there. He rocketed out of his seat, and before anyone could stop him, was on his way to Snape's quarters. He pounded on the doors until they opened, but instead of waiting for someone to invite him in, he just rocketed forward again. He found himself being held tightly from behind.

"I want to see him!" he screamed, fighting the tight grip. "Let me go! I want to see him! I WANT TO SEE HIM! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

"Draco, calm down," Snape said gently behind him. "You can't see him. He's gone, there's nothing you can do for him now."

Draco abruptly stopped fighting. "I want to see him," he whispered.

"You can't see him, Draco," Snape said. His voice sounded strangely roughened, as though he'd spent a great deal of time screaming… or crying.

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"He was burned very badly by whatever potion that was," Snape said. "You don't want to see him that way. Just try to remember him the way he was. You don't want to see him that way." His voice got steadily softer as he spoke until it was barely above a whisper.

Draco's body felt numb. There was a strange buzzing in his ears as Snape finally released him. He stood perfectly still for a long moment before heading toward the door. "Good night, sir," he said automatically. He made his way to his dorm, where he collapsed onto his bed and cried until he passed out from exhaustion. His life was over… _over_.

**Author's Note: Don't kill me. I promise to make it better.**


	12. A New Life

**Chapter Twelve**

**A New Life**

**ONE**

Arêthüsa moved quickly through London, trying to find a place where she could Disapparate without being seen. She'd sensed Severus calling for her, needing her at his side at once. She drew her hood tighter around her face to protect her from the bright sunlight. She hated Saturdays. The Muggles always clogged up the streets on Saturdays, even when it was cold and crisp as this day was. She found an abandoned alley near Charring Cross, which irritated her. For that, she could have just gone straight to the Leaky Cauldron. With one last look around to make sure she was alone, she Apparated to Hogwarts.

Severus' need for her felt even stronger as she passed through the wards and headed toward the castle at a brisk walk. She didn't want to risk running for fear that her cloak would come open. She threw the doors open, finding students milling about in the Entrance Hall, all of them whispering about something.

"He just collapsed…"

"Did you hear him screaming?"

"What do you suppose happened?"

"… seeking attention."

She began walking faster, heading straight toward Severus' chambers, hoping, _praying _that this urgency she was feeling was just paranoia. She squeezed passed Severus' wards and into the office, where a wave of grief and pain washed over her. She gasped with the weight of it, heading straight to Severus' sitting room. Severus wasn't there, but his bedroom door was open and she could hear voices drifting out of it.

"I don't know, Severus!" a woman was shouting. It sounded like Poppy Pomfrey. "I've never seen anything like this before!"

"Enough, both of you," a man's voice said. That one sounded like Dumbledore. Airy frowned, moving into the room. Severus was kneeling next to his bed, upon which was a very burned looking boy. Poppy was standing next to him, apparently taking a pulse. Dumbledore stood behind her, frowning at Arêthüsa.

"What's happening?" Airy asked ignoring the glare Dumbledore was giving her.

Severus jumped up and ran to her, throwing his arms around her neck. "I didn't know what to do!" he cried in distress. Airy pulled him close. "He just started screaming, and the sun was burning him!"

Airy's eyes went to the boy on the bed. "Is that Harry?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Severus nodded against her neck. "Help him, please," he begged quietly.

"I'll try," she agreed, moving out of his arms and toward the bed. Poppy was now standing back, tears running down her cheeks.

"There's no pulse," she said.

Airy waved her off, moving closer to Harry's side. His entire face was burned, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above him. Airy didn't think he was dead, though; the magic was practically pouring off of him. Airy touched his face lightly and his eyes shifted onto her. She knew then what had happened, but she couldn't think of how it was possible.

"When did this happen?" she asked, petting Harry's hair away from his face.

"This morning at breakfast," Dumbledore replied, surprising her.

"What kind of potion can burn someone from the inside out?" Poppy asked.

"The potion didn't burn him," Airy said quietly, not taking her eyes off of Harry, who was still staring at her. "The sun did."

"What do you mean, Airy?" Severus asked, wringing his hands. Airy had a suspicion that he already knew what she was going to say.

"He's like me now, Severus," she said. "That's what the potion did. He's a vampire."

Severus' eyes drifted close, confirming that that was indeed what he had suspected. "He's so young," he whispered.

"That he is," Airy agreed. "He needs blood or the burns won't heal properly."

"But… but, there's no pulse," Poppy stuttered behind her.

Airy turned and regarded the woman with sympathetic eyes. She'd never seen her so unglued. "He's the undead, Poppy," she said. "His heart will start beating again once he gets some blood." She reached into her boot, pulled out an ornate silver dagger, cut her wrist and let the blood drip onto Harry's lips.

Harry didn't respond at first, but as more of her blood dripped onto his mouth, he began licking at it until his arms came up and pulled her wrist flush to his mouth. He continued to stare at her as he drank greedily.

Airy petted him gently with her free hand, feeling herself going cold as her blood was drained from her. "That's right, Harry," she cooed.

Before her eyes, his skin began to heal over slowly as he drank, his eyes gaining some of that preternatural intensity that would stay with him for the rest of time. It happened slowly, but soon all of his skin was as pink and healthy as it had ever been. Behind her, Poppy gasped sharply.

"That's enough now, Harry," Airy said gently, prying her wrist from Harry's grasp. It healed over in a moment. Harry's eyes were now fixed hungrily on Poppy, who backed up a step fearfully.

Airy removed the flask from her hip and held it up to Harry's mouth. "Drink some of this now, love," she encouraged.

Harry's eyes returned to her, but he still didn't seem to recognize her. She knew that the Blood Lust was upon him now, so he wouldn't recognize anyone until he'd drank some fresh human blood. She pressed the flask to his mouth, and he began to drink deeply, a healthy glow beginning to permeate his skin with each swallow.

Airy silently thanked Scott for his genius. The bottomless flask had been his idea. If he could just find a way to make a flask vampires could carry, that would never run out of blood then vampires would no longer need to kill to fulfill their thirst.

Once Harry had had his fill, he immediately went into the vampiric sleep, the pull of the sun affecting his consciousness.

Airy sighed and drank deeply from her flask before returning it to her hip. "I have to see some people," she said, feeling the pull of the sun herself, but ignoring it. "I'll be back before sunset. I don't want anyone to come into this room, understand?"

"You mean I can't stay with him?" Severus asked.

Airy turned to him as she stood up. "Yeh can't, Severus," she replied. "He'd kill yeh without thinking if yeh got too close. It's a defense mechanism while we sleep. If a mortal gets too close, that's it. He wouldn't even realize what he'd done until sunset."

Severus sighed, but nodded glumly. Airy ushered the three mortals from the room, closing the door gently behind her.

"He cannot stay here if he's been turned," Dumbledore said once they were all in the sitting room. "He's a danger to his peers."

Airy sneered maliciously at him. "He won't be no danger once I come back," she growled. "I just have to get some supplies fer him. I haven't killed a mortal in nearly twelve years."

Dumbledore seemed rather surprised.

"Just because a vampire killed yer family, tha' doesn't mean we're all mindless killers," Airy snapped. "I hate killin'. I've never liked it, and I never will. You throw him out of school, you can just bet he'll come back to kill _you_."

"Enough, Airy," Severus said tiredly. "We both know that's not true."

Airy made a noncommittal noise in her throat. "I'm off ter see Scott. I'll be back before sunset." She swept out of the room with one last angry glare at the headmaster.

**TWO**

"What are we going to do, Albus?" Severus asked, ignoring the painful stabbing in his heart.

Albus sat down heavily in the chair next to Severus. "This was an obvious attempt on Harry's life," he said, sounding very tired indeed. "If we send him back to classes after he's learned to deal with this, someone will merely try again."

Severus nodded. "What do you suggest?" he asked.

"I think we should announce his death, remove the glamour and send him back to school as your son," Albus replied "It would be the best way to keep him safe."

Severus nodded again, too drained to answer. He'd known the moment that Harry's skin started smoking that he'd been turned. He didn't want to believe it, but he couldn't deny it any longer after Airy had confirmed it for him. He hadn't even known there was a potion in existence that could turn someone into a vampire. "I'd like to be alone now, if you don't mind," he muttered.

"Of course, my boy," Albus said, standing up, patting Severus on the shoulder and leaving the room quietly.

Almost as soon as he was alone, Severus burst into anguished tears. He knew that Harry wouldn't take this news lightly. It would be hard for him to learn to stay awake during the day and sleep at night. He'd have to take a potion every day to protect him from the sun. The worst blow, however, was that he'd have to give up Draco or risk turning him as well. As much as his son cared for Draco, Severus knew that Harry wouldn't want to turn him into a vampire. He cried for everything Harry had lost and everything he would never know. He cried for the eternity of lost daylight he knew Harry would miss. He cried for the children Harry would never have. Mostly he cried for the loneliness and exile Harry was going to experience due to this. The only time in his life that he'd cried like this was when he'd discovered that Lily had been murdered.

**THREE**

As much as Airy hated clinics in general, she hated them even more during the day when they were full of people. Sick people smelled repulsive and most of the time, they were most obnoxious. She therefore entered Scott's clinic ready for confrontation. She didn't have time to wait for him. She walked purposefully to the reception desk, ignoring the full lobby completely.

"I need to see Dr. Kotzin," she said without preamble. She didn't even bother charming the young man with her significant cleavage.

"We're all booked up for the day," the young man said politely. "I can fit you in on Monday."

"I need to see him right now," Airy said in a threatening voice. "Not in an _hour_, not in _five_ hours, not _tomorrow_, _now."_

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the receptionist said, starting to sound irritated. "He's booked up for the day. You'll have to wait."

Airy leaned over the desk menacingly. "I don't care if he's in bloody surgery right now," she growled. "I'm going to see him. Now, you can either go and get him, or I can go back there and find him meself. Pick."

"Look here," the receptionist began, but he didn't get to finish his thought because Airy had gone around his desk and into the back of the clinic. He followed her. "You can't just come back here!" he was yelling. "He's with patients!"

Airy spun around and caressed his cheek gently. "You don't want to throw me out, do you?" she said softly.

The young man's eyes became glassy. "No," he murmured.

"Of course not," Airy said. "Why don't you go back to yer desk and forget I'm here?"

"Okay," he said, and he turned around and walked slowly to the door. He disappeared behind it without looking back.

Airy continued down the corridor, opening doors and startling unsuspecting Muggles in her search for Scott. She found him near the back. He looked at her with surprise when she opened the door.

"I need to talk to yeh," she said.

"Arêthüsa," Scott said. "I'm a bit busy right now."

"This canna wait," she replied.

Scott nodded, a look of concern coming over his face. "Excuse me," he said to his patient before following Airy out of the room and leading her to his plush office. She cast heavy silencing spells on the room before speaking.

"Harry's been turned," she said without preamble.

"What?" Scott gasped. "How did _that_ happen?"

Airy waved her arms impatiently. "Some kind of potion. I need a bank and a flask immediately before he kills someone."

Scott nodded and flew into action. He went to his desk, picked up the phone and dialed a number on his speed dial. "Jon?" he asked. "Yes. No, I have an emergency. Can you have a bank and a flask ready in about an hour? What? No, no, Airy's coming to get it. Yes. No, it's not for her. No, I need it before sundown. Yes. That's right. Okay, she'll be there shortly. Thanks."

"All set?" Airy asked.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry fer burstin' in here like this," Airy thought to say.

Scott waved her off. "Is he all right?" he asked.

"He's fine fer now, but he won' be if he wakes up before I get back. I'd better go get that bank. Thanks a million, Scott. I owe yeh big." She embraced him warmly.

"Don't think on it, Arêthüsa," he replied. "Go take care of Harry."

"Thank yeh, Scott," Airy said again before leaving the clinic. Many of the patrons glared at her as she left, but she barely noticed. Her mind was lost in reflection.

She'd met Scott thirteen years before, intent on making him her next meal. She'd followed him for months, admiring the care he took with his patients. It was rare to find a doctor anymore who actually cared for his patients, but Scott was one of those few. He'd known as soon as he'd seen her that she wasn't human, but he hadn't seemed frightened. She'd gotten rather attached to him and so didn't kill him after all. She'd broken every law for secrecy by telling him all about wizards and vampires and even the whole morbid tale of Severus and Harry and her deception of them both. He'd kept a sympathetic ear and given her good advice.

Without her knowledge, he'd met up with some Healers from Mungo's who had been trying to find a cure for vampirism, but were failing miserably. Together with them, he'd set up a blood bank, devoted to collecting and distributing blood for vampires. He'd come up with the idea for the Blood Bank, a small safe-like device that acted as a porthole to the actual blood bank, providing a vampire with a ready supply of blood. He'd given Airy the prototype. After that came the bottomless flask, which worked well, but couldn't keep the blood as fresh as the Blood Bank could. Airy hadn't killed anyone since he'd given her the Blood Bank and she was eternally grateful to him for it. She wasn't sure how he'd met the Healers, but it didn't really matter to her. He was the single most open-minded Muggle she'd ever met. If he wanted to make a vampire's life easier, who was _she_ to question him?

She came to a small building, nestled in the outskirts of London, and pushed open the door. The inside was much larger and cleaner than the outside would have suggested, but Airy had been to this particular establishment before and so wasn't surprised.

"Airy," the man behind the counter said, coming around to embrace her. He was quite short for a man, only five foot five, with wavy black hair, gray eyes and golden skin. "What's happened? Who's the bank for?"

"I canna tell yeh that, Jon," Airy replied. "Just know that you have my eternal gratitude fer this."

Jon nodded his understanding, not questioning her secrecy. "I have it here," he said, gesturing behind the desk. Airy walked around it with him and sat on his stool while he lifted the Blood Bank onto the countertop.

"This is the new prototype," he explained. "Once you get to where you're going, you'll have to key it to whomever the victim is. Just place his hand on it and say 'Intexere'. Just make sure you're not touching it as well, or it will key to both of you. Once he's keyed in, he'll be the only one who can open it. If he claims a mate, then he can key his mate to the bank as well. Each one has a different incantation so another vampire can't key themselves to someone else's bank. It's a safety feature so the banks won't be stolen."

Airy nodded her understanding.

"The flask is the same as yours. To activate it, tap it with your wand and say 'Complere'. It'll work from then on."

"What do I owe you fer this?" Airy asked, taking the flask he was holding out and putting it in her pocket.

"No charge, Airy," he said with a smile, shrinking the bank to the size of a ring box. Airy put it in her pocket with the flask.

She sighed heavily. "I think me heart might break at any time," she muttered, closing her eyes and lowering her head.

"Why?" Jon asked. "What's happened, Airy? You seem so… sad."

"I am sad, Jon," Airy replied, looking up at him. "Very sad. My vampiric senses have chosen a mate I canna have, a boy I love like a son has been turned, and I still can't find work. Sad doesn't even _begin_ to describe how hurt I feel."

"I'm so sorry," Jon said, rubbing her shoulder gently. "How old is the boy?"

"Sixteen."

Jon closed his eyes, looking as though his own son had been turned. "So young," he muttered.

"Yeah," Airy agreed. "Very young."

"I take it you're going to be his mentor?"

Airy nodded. "Yes. I'm the only vampire he knows. There's no one else."

"You'll make a good teacher, Airy," Jon assured her. "He couldn't be in better hands."

"Thanks, Jon," Airy muttered. She stood up, feeling old and unhappy, to make her way back to Hogwarts.

**FOUR**

Harry's eyes popped open as though he'd been startled, but in truth, the room was completely silent. He stared at the ceiling, marveling at how clear it looked, the way every small inconsistency in its texture seemed to leap out at him. He was hungry, very, _very_ hungry.

"Early riser, I see," Airy's voice said from somewhere to his left.

Harry sat up and looked at the woman, staring at how bright her hair seemed. Her skin seemed to glitter in the dim candlelight, looking opalescent and clean. Her eyes were bright, watching him closely with what seemed to be inhuman intensity.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

Airy waved vaguely, though there weren't any windows to speak of. "Sunset," she replied.

"I've slept all day?" Harry asked. "Everyone must be worried about me. I'd better go and tell them I'm all right."

"Yer not goin' anywhere until we talk," Airy said, but her voice was gentle. "What do you remember about this mornin'?"

Harry thought about it. "Well, Ron woke me up for breakfast because we were supposed to go to Hogsmeade today. Professor Fitzpatrick fell on me at breakfast. Ron and I were talking about Quidditch and then there was pain. It hurt a lot. I don't really remember anything after that."

Airy nodded as though she had been expecting this. It struck Harry how clearly he could see her, despite the dim lighting. The room seemed brighter than it should have with only one candle burning. "I have some things to tell yeh, Harry," Airy said gently. "None of this is goin' ter be easy, but yeh have to listen to me, all righ'?"

"Where's Father?" Harry asked, suddenly wanting his father by his side.

"He's out there," Airy replied, waving toward the door.

"I want to see him."

"Yeh can see him after we've talked. This is important, Harry."

Harry sighed and nodded. "What's happened to me now?" he asked in a resigned sort of voice.

"When yeh got to breakfast this mornin', was yer food already waitin' fer yeh, or did yeh have to take it from plates?"

Harry stared at her, wondering why she was asking that. "It was already served," he said. "I just assumed that Ron or Hermione had set it out for me to save time."

"Severus has been runnin' tests on yer food to find out a few things. It appears that it had large amounts of an unknown potion in it."

"Crap, I ate most of it before the pain started."

"Yeah, we noticed that."

"So what did this potion do to me?"

Airy sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes. "It turned yeh into a vampire," she said softly.

Harry stared at her, almost becoming distracted by the way the light played off of her hair. "Vampire?" he repeated blankly, his mind unable to process what she was saying to him.

She nodded.

"I didn't know there was a potion that could do that."

"Neither did we."

"So what now?" Harry felt totally numb, and he was afraid of what would happen when everything finally sunk in.

"First off, yeh need to feed. I'm sure you're hungry."

Harry nodded.

Airy moved to his side of the bed. She took his hand and placed it on a metal safe on the night table. The safe glowed green for a moment before popping open. Inside were two large pouches filled with what looked like blood.

"Is that blood?" Harry asked, taking one of the pouches out of the safe.

"Aye," Airy replied.

Harry swallowed. "You want me to drink this?"

"Aye."

"Can't I just eat something?"

"Yeh canna eat food anymore, Harry. Yer body canna process it. This is yer food now. If yeh don't drink it, yer likely to kill the first mortal yeh come across, which would most likely be yer father."

Harry nodded. "Okay then. How do I drink this?"

"Yeh see the tube there?"

Harry nodded again.

"It's just like a straw." She reached across and pulled out a stopper from the tube. "Just drink it like a fizzy drink."

Harry bent hesitantly and took an experimental drink from the pouch. As soon as the blood touched his tongue, his body cried out for it. He felt that he'd never tasted anything so good and so drank all of it down greedily. Once the bag was empty, he lowered it staring at it longingly. "I want some more," he said, completely forgetting about the second bag in the safe.

Airy took the empty bag from his hands, returning it to the safe and handing him the second one.

Harry popped the stopper and drank the second just as quickly, feeling the blood pumping through his veins, his cold skin warming up even as he drank. Once the second bag was empty, Harry felt much better.

"Each bag holds one quart of blood," Airy said, watching him place the empty bag into the safe. "The box is called a Blood Bank. Only you can open it, so yeh needn't worry about that. Once yeh've fed, just put the empties back into the bank and they'll be whisked back to the source."

"What's the source?"

"A friend of mine runs a blood bank that caters to vampires. I believe 30 of all the blood that comes in is given to hospitals, to keep the Muggle authorities happy. The rest is given to us."

Us. That word seemed to make something click in Harry's mind. He didn't know why he hadn't seen it before. "How long have you been a vampire?" he asked.

Airy smiled sadly. "About fourteen years," she said. "I was turned just after you were given to yer aunt fer safe keeping. Severus and Remus never thought twice about being me friends. They're the only ones though."

"Is that why Dumbledore doesn't like you?"

Airy's expression darkened. "Aye," she replied. "Dumbledore's family was killed by a vampire in the throws of Blood Lust. Once yeh allow yerself to get into that state, yer barely aware of what's happenin', just that yeh need to feed. He hasn't trusted any of us since, regardless of how long it's been since we've killed."

"So am I being expelled then?"

"No, we've talked the old man out of that. It's goin' to take a while fer yeh to get used to everything, so it might be a few weeks before yeh go back to school."

"Oh. What about this whole 'attack' thing? Won't they try again?"

"About that… you'll be goin' back as Octavian, not Harry Potter."

Harry nodded. "So I'll be sorted again?"

Airy nodded.

"Can we save the rest of this for later? I'd really like to see Father and Draco."

Airy shifted uncomfortably. "Yeh can't see Draco anymore," she said.

Harry sat up straighter. "I thought you were on _my_ side about Draco!" he exclaimed angrily.

"I was, Harry!" Airy returned, holding up a hand to forestall Harry's complaints. "This is more complicated than which family yer from or what side of the war you back."

"What then?" Harry snapped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Vampires en't like mortals. Once we choose a mate, it's forever. You're already very close to Draco. Yer vampiric instincts will have already tagged him as yer chosen mate. If you get intimate with him, he'll be turned. There's no getting around it."

Harry felt his blood run cold. "You mean I have to stop seeing him?"

Airy looked like she knew just what he was feeling. "I'm sorry, Harry, but that's the truth of it."

"What if I could just, you know, hold him or something? We don't have to do anything more. I could explain it to him."

"It doesn't work that way. Once you've recognized yer Chosen, yer mind isn't going to give you a chance to hold back. You'll be taken into what's called the Mating Lust. It's just like the Blood Lust except that it won't go away until yer Chosen is gone, or has been turned. Yeh canna control it, yeh canna get around it. You touch Draco in any way that's more intimate than a handshake and you'll find yerself with a changeling lover."

Harry felt like weeping, but he kept his expression blank. "Can I at least say goodbye to him? I owe him that much."

Airy shifted again, making Harry narrow his eyes at her. "What?"

"Well, Dumbledore's announced to the school that you were killed."

Harry's eyes became wide. "Draco thinks I'm dead?" he asked incredulously. "How could you _do_ that to him? Couldn't you tell him the truth?"

"Harry, if Draco knew that you were still alive, he'd come looking fer you. He wouldn't care about the risks or the dangers. He'd very well put himself in danger because he wouldn't understand the mechanics of a vampire's instincts. He was told that yer dead to keep him safe, from himself if need be."

Harry didn't like this at all. "So I'm just supposed to pretend that I don't know him, is that it?"

"Aye," Airy agreed. "I know it's hard, Harry, but do you really want to risk turning him? Do you want to condemn him the way we have been condemned?"

Put that way, Harry understood perfectly what Airy was saying. "Do you have a Chosen?"

"Aye."

"Have you turned him?"

"No. He doesn't even know I'm interested. I do everything I can to make sure we're not alone for long periods of time because I don't want to turn him."

Harry nodded, understanding that she knew just what he felt about losing Draco now after they'd come so far.

"If whoever it was wanted to kill me, why turn me into a vampire?" he asked then, trying to take his mind off of losing Draco.

"The Gryffindor table is bathed in sunlight in the mornings," Airy replied. "I'm pretty sure they were counting on no one knowing what they were seeing. Severus was there when I was turned, so he was. He knew what it looked like, so he knew what was happening to you, even if he went into denial about it later."

"Is he… he doesn't… he's not," Harry stuttered, unable to say what he was thinking. He once again felt his world crumbling.

"He still loves yeh, Harry. He's hurting for yeh. He knows what yer gonna lose because of this."

Harry nodded feeling slightly relieved. Just as he was preparing to ask another question, he heard shouting in the other room. He and Airy both turned to the door. "What's that?" he asked.

Airy went to the door and opened it just enough to look out. "Draco," she said. Her face seemed to scrunch up with concentration and the yelling suddenly stopped. She sighed heavily, closing the door gently and returning to the bed.

"What did you do?" Harry asked.

"Vampires have certain inherent abilities. One is mild mind control, not unlike the Imperious Curse. I don't use it often, but sometimes it comes in handy."

"What did you make him do?"

"I just calmed him down. He wanted to see you. I imagine he wanted to prove to himself that yeh were gone."

Harry nodded, not even bothering to argue about why he felt it was so very wrong to hurt Draco this way. He felt a very strong need to be with the blonde, to calm him, to reassure him.

"Yeh want to be with him now because he's yer Chosen," Airy said. "It's natural for you to want to protect him."

Harry stared at her. "How did you know?"

She smiled. "Another gift. I have a lot to teach yeh before yeh go back to school. We should start tonight, but first, I think yeh should see yer da."

Harry got out of bed and went into the sitting room, feeling that he was leaving himself behind to become someone else. He was not looking forward to his future.


	13. Octavian Septimus Snape

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Octavian Septimus Snape**

**ONE**

Four weeks had passed and still Harry hadn't rejoined the school. The facts of vampirism weren't difficult for him to grasp, but responding when he was called Octavian was bit trickier. He was starting to get used to it, but he still thought of himself as Harry. The hardest thing to get over was his new fascination with colors. He'd often become distracted when the light hit things in a certain way, staring at the object until Airy called him back to attention. She told him that the fascination would fade as he became accustomed to his new vision.

Father had dismantled the potion that was used to turn him, but unfortunately, there was no way to create an antidote. The potion did essentially what a vampire does when it turns someone; it vanished most of his blood and replaced it with vampire blood. Not surprisingly, the key ingredient was vampire blood. Father believed that it had to have been one of Voldemort's minions, though he was no closer to discovering whom. He'd ruled out Ravenclaw, Slytherin and Gryffindor, and was now working his way through Hufflepuff. He said it was most likely one of the professors because he'd yet to find a Hufflepuff who excelled at potions. Harry had chuckled at that.

He was now standing behind a closed door in the same small room off of the Great Hall that he'd gone to after his name had been pulled out of the Goblet of Fire. He was nervously wringing his hands in front of him, rubbing his forehead to make sure the makeup he'd used to cover his scar was still in place, and just generally freaking out. It was time to go back to school, and Harry had a feeling he knew just what the Sorting Hat was going to say.

Just as he became certain that he couldn't go through with it, the door opened and McGonagall ushered him into the Hall. Dumbledore was standing at his place at the head table.

"Now, I would like to introduce a new sixth year student," he said, beaming at the curious faces of hundreds of students who were staring at Harry with wide eyes. "He is joining us after being home schooled for most of his magical training. I would like all of you to give him a warm welcome."

"Octavian Snape," McGonagall said in a carrying voice that started whispers all around the Hall. "You will sit on the stool, place the Sorting Hat on your head and wait to be sorted into your new House."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat while nodding nervously. He glanced at Draco before the Hat dropped onto his head and found that the blonde wasn't even looking in his direction.

"Harry Potter, back again," the Sorting Hat said in his ear.

'Hello,' Harry thought.

"Are you going to let me put you where you should be this time?" the Hat asked in a haughty voice that made Harry squirm.

'Wherever you think is best,' he thought. 'I'm not very concerned with that this time around.'

"Ah, but you are," the Hat countered. "But, since you've decided not to interfere it'll have to be… SLYTHERIN!" The Hat shouted the last for the whole Hall to hear. Harry had known that would be the Hat's decision, but he didn't like it. How was he supposed to keep himself away from Draco if he shared a House with the boy? He took the Hat off, handed it to McGonagall and made his way to the Slytherin table. He noticed that Draco still wouldn't look at him, and wondered what that was about.

"Very good," Dumbledore said, though he didn't sound like he meant it. He was looking at Harry with no small amount of disappointment. Harry felt somewhat accomplished by that look. If he could irk Dumbledore then it was a good day indeed. "With that done, we can eat!" The tables filled with the usual fare for Hogwarts students at dinnertime and the noise level went up as students began talking to their friends.

Harry removed a small brown paper sack from inside his robes. Arêthüsa had come up with this particular idea. Inside the sack, he had blood, transfigured to look like food so people wouldn't wonder why he never ate.

"Hey, Snape," Pansy Parkinson asked from three places to Harry's left. "What's with the sack?"

"It's my dinner," Harry replied coldly, glaring at the girl.

She smirked at him. "What's the matter, Hogwarts food not good enough for you?"

Harry smirked right back, his eyes colder than ice. Pansy seemed to wilt under the glare. "My father feels that it is unsafe to consume Hogwarts food after what happened to Harry Potter."

True to form, Father was also removing his dinner from a paper sack. He thought that if their cover story involved Harry Potter in any way, they should at least do the thing properly.

Pansy looked down at her plate, seemingly contemplating whether she felt her own food was safe to eat. She looked back at Harry. "Can I share some of yours?" she asked.

"I think not," Harry replied with another cold smirk. "If you wanted to avoid Hogwarts fare, you should very well have come prepared. It's not my job to keep you fed." He didn't bother with introducing himself to anyone. He felt that as a Snape, he should present himself as aloof and unfriendly as possible. Aside from that, he had no interest in making friends with people who had strived to make his life hell for the past six years. The only one he was interested in seemed to be ignoring his existence completely. He looked over at Draco and attempted to open a conversation. "Are you a Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco looked up at him and Harry was shocked by the sheer loathing in his eyes. He'd thought that Draco would want to make friends with Snape's offspring. "Yes," he said. "What difference does it make to you, Snape?"

"None at all," Harry replied. "I was only curious because of your pale hair."

"Why don't you shove it up your pie hole, Snape?" Draco snarled maliciously.

Harry swallowed and raised his eyebrow in question. "Have I offended you, Malfoy?" he asked. "I certainly didn't intend to."

"Your very _existence_ offends me," Draco snapped. "That your greasy, good for nothing father _procreated_ offends me."

"What has my father done to you?" Harry snapped back, his patience running out. "He's always spoken highly of you. I can't imagine why, now that I've met you."

"Eat me, Snape," Draco muttered, returning to playing with his food. "I don't have to tell you anything."

Harry realized that the Slytherins around him had fallen silent to listen to the exchange. Many were staring at him curiously. "Have I sprouted horns?" he growled at them, causing them to return to their meals.

Harry began on his own meal, relishing in the flavor of the blood on his tongue. He simply couldn't get enough of it sometimes. Airy had told him that receiving a regular supply of blood throughout the day would keep his skin looking flush and human so people wouldn't suspect he was a vampire. He could feel the blood working its magic in his veins, warming him up and making his vision even sharper.

He watched Draco as he ate. He noticed that Draco seemed pale and was rather thinner that he'd been four weeks ago. His hair hung limply in his eyes and his robes, usually immaculate, seemed rumpled.

"Don't you mind Draco," Blaise Zabini said from his left, where he was sitting looking dashing. He realized that he'd never seen him up close and marveled at how handsome he was. He had straight black hair that fell just passed his shoulders and dark inquisitive eyes that spoke of his Slytherin cunning. "He's been moping about for ages. He's suddenly decided that he hates your father's guts, though I can't imagine why. Professor Snape has always taken good care of Slytherin. Draco's just been in an odd mood, that's all."

Harry observed the way the light seemed to sparkle in his hair. "And you are?" he asked.

He held out his hand, which Harry shook politely. "Blaise Zabini," he replied with a small smile. "I'm in your year."

"Pleasure," Harry drawled, realizing that he'd never actually been involved in the Gryffindor baiting over the years. He wondered why. "He looks pale," he said, gesturing toward Draco. "Is he ill?"

"I can hear you, you know," Draco said, glaring at him again. "Not that it's any of your business, but I am not ill."

Blaise touched Harry's arm lightly. "I'm not sure what happened," he muttered quietly so Draco wouldn't hear him. "He's gone into this strange depression. None of us know what it's about, so we just steer clear of him most of the time."

Harry nodded, a worried frown creasing his brow. Looking up and around the Hall, he found Ron and Hermione watching him closely. They gave him small tentative smiles, which he returned, making them relax in their seats.

Blaise finished his dinner and stood up. "Are you finished?" he asked.

Harry nodded, slipping his sack back into his robes.

"Follow me then. I'll show you to the dorms."

Harry nodded again and stood up, wondering why one of the Prefects hadn't taken on the responsibility.

"We're in the dungeons," Blaise said, moving to a side door and descending down into the bowels of the castle. "It's nice down there, if a bit damp. The House Elves keep the fires going though, so it never gets too bad."

"I see," Harry muttered, following him at a sedate pace, trying not to let on that he knew just where Slytherin was located.

"Our House colors are green and silver," Blaise went on. "And our mascot is a snake."

"Yes, I heard that Salazar Slytherin was a Parslemouth," Harry supplied, looking at the drab portraits they were passing along the dark corridor.

Blaise looked at him with surprise. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"Just because I haven't been attending Hogwarts does not mean that I've never read _Hogwarts, a History_." And during his four week sabbatical he had indeed read _Hogwarts, a History_. Hermione would have been proud. "Perhaps you should consider doing the same."

Blaise blushed crimson. "I just might do that," he said, though his voice was considerably colder than it had been. Harry figured he must be pulling off the Snape thing rather well. "Here we are," he said after another moment of silent walking and gestured at the wall. "This is the Blank Bit of Wall, as we call it. Listen carefully. _Morsmordre_."

Harry's eyebrow went up. "Who decides the password?" he asked.

Blaise shrugged, obviously oblivious about what that particular incantation did. "The seventh year Prefects."

"You should inform them that they are imbeciles," Harry said, sliding passed him and into the common room, where he sat down on the leather divan. Blaise sat down next to him with a curious expression

"Why are they imbeciles?" he asked.

"First of all, using incantations for passwords is dangerous. Secondly, that incantation is directly from the Dark Lord's arsenal of spells. They may as well paint a sign that reads 'Death Eaters inside'."

Blaise's eyes were wide. "How do you know that's one of You-Know-Who's spells?" he asked.

"I have heard it spoken before," Harry replied. "It summons the Dark Mark into the sky."

Blaise swallowed. "Oh wow." He disappeared to his dorm room and came back with his bag. He promptly removed several large books and began on his homework.

Harry didn't have any homework, so he set out to find his room. Much to his dismay, he found that he was bunking with Crabbe. Joy of joys. He figured that the unmade bed was Crabbe's and so sat down on the second bed, which was on the other side of the room. He saw that all of his things were already there, including a trunk with the inscription Octavian S. Snape on the front in spidery letters. He reached into the trunk, pulled out a tiny glass flask filled with a purple potion, popped the cork and downed the potion. It was his sun-blocking potion, which would last for thirty-six hours. He'd been instructed to take it every night before bed. After a long hot shower, he decided to try to get some sleep, clearing his mind thoroughly before doing so. He was asleep before Crabbe came back from dinner.

**TWO**

Draco was dead tired. He was pleased to note that they hadn't bunked Snape Jr. with him. He knew he was being extremely unfair to Snape Jr., but he couldn't help it. He'd been pissed at Snape ever since the man had refused to let him see Harry after the attack and again before the funeral. All of the students went to the funeral, but it had been closed casket, so there was no last glimpse of Harry's body before it was committed to the ground. He was angry. He was sad. He was missing Harry terribly. He wanted Harry back, no matter how impossible that was. He still couldn't accept that Harry was gone. Snape Jr. goading him at dinner hadn't helped matters. He showered before going to bed, crying himself to sleep as he'd done every night since Harry had died.

**THREE**

Draco was very aware of the way Snape Jr. always watched him. Wherever he went, those impossibly green eyes were on him. Those eyes were another reason for Draco to hate the boy; they reminded him too much of Harry's eyes. Snape Jr. had come to Hogwarts only two months ago, and already he seemed to have claimed a special interest in Draco, despite Draco's sincere attempts to drive him away. He never spoke to Draco, nor did he come near, but those eyes were always watching, seeming to wait for something that would never come.

Draco had decided sometime in April that the best way to get over Harry was to find a new lover. He'd settled on a seventh year Ravenclaw named Marrieta Edgecombe. She was pretty enough, with her curly hair and brown eyes, and she had nothing to do with Harry. Since he'd started seeing her, he'd noticed the way Snape Jr. seemed to wish her dead every time he spied her on Draco's arm.

Draco had known from the first that his affair with Marrieta wasn't getting him anywhere. He still thought about Harry almost constantly and he still cried himself to sleep most nights, though not as often as he used to. He figured time would help him forget more than having an affair with anyone, no matter how sexy they were. Harry filled his mind and dreams. He just wanted to stop hurting, and so he kept on with Marrieta, hoping that some of that pain would diminish, if only for a while. He hadn't counted on Snape Jr. being a hero though.

It was mid May and the sixth years were terribly bogged down with homework. Draco's mood couldn't have been worse. He knew his depression was affecting his entire House, who weren't used to seeing anything but a poised and smirking Draco who only snapped at the rest of the school. Draco was snapping at his own Housemates more often than not now, and it finally came to a head one night in the common room.

"Hey, Draco," Greg asked, sitting down next to Draco on the divan. Snape Jr. was across the room, his homework miraculously completed, watching Draco silently. The brazen boy didn't even bother to hide that fact that he was watching.

"What is it, Greg?" Draco muttered irritably.

"I was wondering if you would help me with this Defense essay," Greg replied, opening his book on the table.

"Did you read the chapter?" Draco asked.

"No, I thought you could just—"

"Well, you thought wrong then, didn't you," Draco interrupted. "Read the bloody chapter and then you won't need my help."

"You know how I hate reading," Greg complained.

"I don't give a shit," Draco snapped. "I'm sick and tired of always doing your homework for you."

"You don't do it!" Greg countered. "You just help me out! I write everything!"

"Which is apparent in the terrible composition of you essays! Don't you ever wonder why your grades suck?"

Greg stood up, grabbed the front of Draco's robe and slammed him against the wall. Before Draco could even think about defending himself, Snape Jr. was there and Greg was flying across the room, landing in a heap on top of the coffee table, which collapsed on impact. Before Greg could stand up, Snape Jr. was dragging him up by his collar and slamming him against the nearest wall. When he spoke, it was in a deadly whisper.

"Touch him again and you'll wish you'd never been born," he said, his eyes glinting eerily in the firelight. "Do you understand?" Draco realized with a start that Snape Jr. was holding Greg's significant weight off of the floor with only one hand, which was gripping his throat rather forcefully. Greg was quickly turning blue.

Draco rushed forward and placed his hand on Snape Jr.'s shoulder. "Snape, let him go," he muttered.

Snape Jr. didn't even seem to hear him and Greg was starting to look like he might pass out.

"Octavian," Draco tried again. "Let him go. Calm down, I'm all right. Look, I'm not even bruised."

Snape's intense gaze turned toward Draco, scanning him up and down before releasing his hold on Greg, who collapsed to the floor, coughing desperately. He removed his wand from his pocket, casually flicked it toward the table and muttered, "Reparo." The table flew back together instantly.

Snape continued to gaze at Draco, his eyes strange. After a long time, he nodded and returned to his chair in the shadowy corner, taking a sip from his hip flask as he did so. His eyes never left Draco.

Draco moved forward and helped Greg off of the floor. "I'm sorry, Greg," he apologized. "I shouldn't have said that. You read that chapter and I'll help you. It really is the best way."

Greg nodded and returned to the sofa, not looking in Snape's direction. Vince was by the fireplace, apparently debating about whether he should beat Snape up. Draco didn't think even Vince could defeat Snape in hand-to-hand combat.

"Got a new personal bodyguard, Malfoy?" Nott sneered from his armchair near the fire.

"I don't even like the git," Draco snapped off. "Don't ask me what his problem is."

"You should get a clue, Malfoy," Nott said. "You think I don't know why you've been all mopey for months? You miss Potter. Not so tough without your little scapegoat, are you? Maybe you wanted to give him a nice good bye kiss." He mimicked kissing before laughing maliciously.

Draco saw Snape leaning forward in his chair from the corner of his eye, so he decided to adjourn to his room before Nott was seriously hurt. He could feel Snape's eyes on him all the way out of the common room. He sat heavily on his bed, taking out his Seeing Ball and petting it lovingly. "Show me Octavian Snape," he told it. The mist swirled before opening a window, showing Snape pacing about in the room he shared with Vince. He looked agitated. Draco decided it was time to find out what the hell was wrong with Snape. "Enough," he said, deactivating the Ball.

He walked down the short corridor and entered the room without pausing to knock. Snape stopped pacing at once and began to stare at Draco. "You needed something?" he asked.

Draco closed the door with a snap. "What the hell is wrong with you, Snape?" he asked. "I don't need you to protect me from my own friends!"

"It didn't look like that from where I was standing," Snape said dryly.

"Greg and I always get into it," Draco snapped. "He wouldn't have done any permanent damage. Besides, I can take care of myself."

Snape snorted. "Of course you can."

Draco hated how Snape was so much like his father. He strode forward to give Snape an angry shove and instead found himself pushed up against a wall. Snape, who had looked angry, now looked rather lustful. It was unnerving.

"Let me go," Draco demanded coolly.

Snape ran his finger down Draco's jaw. "Gods, I've missed you," he murmured, now running his thumb over Draco's lips. The touch felt so familiar. Suddenly Snape was kissing him, his tongue exploring Draco's mouth with fierce abandon. The kiss felt familiar as well, as though he was kissing Harry again and as Draco's eyes slid shut, he forgot it wasn't Harry he was kissing.

Snape's hand went around his waist, pulling his body close, and began working his way down Draco's throat. Just as Draco was beginning to feel hot and bothered, Professor Snape burst into the room and pulled Snape Jr. away from Draco forcefully.

"Octavian, calm down," the professor was saying.

Octavian was struggling against him, trying to get back to Draco, but he was making a conscious effort not to hurt his father.

"Octavian, snap out of it!" Snape demanded, shaking his son, who didn't seem to hear him. "Harry, listen to me!" Snape snapped harshly.

Draco's world froze when Octavian responded to that. He stared at his father, his struggling coming to a halt.

Snape pulled him into a tight hug, petting his hair. "That's it, Harry," he murmured. "Calm now. That's it."

Octavian began sobbing. "I almost…" he gasped. "I almost…" He couldn't seem to finish the thought.

"I know, Harry," Snape cooed. "It's all right now."

Harry… Draco's mind couldn't process what he was hearing. Why was Snape calling his son Harry? It couldn't be what Draco was thinking. They couldn't have… could they? Why would Harry lie to him this way? Didn't he realize how much Draco was hurting without him? "Harry?" he asked in a small voice he didn't recognize as his own. Tears came to his eyes as Snape turned his gaze on him, that one look confirming Draco's suspicions.

"Go back to your room, Draco," Snape said gently. "I'll explain everything to you shortly."

Draco felt numb and confused as he retreated to his room, waiting for Snape in cold desperation, needing to know what was happening.

**FOUR**

Severus took Harry back to his private quarters, holding the still sobbing teen gently. "Stay here, Harry," he said, gently pushing his son down onto the divan. "I have to speak with Draco. I want you to stay here and calm down."

Harry nodded silently, wiping the blood stained tears from his face with the sleeve of his robe.

Severus sighed heavily, running a hand over his face before returning to Slytherin. He was not looking forward to telling Draco the full truth. He considered just Obliviating the boy, but he knew this scene would repeat itself if he did that, so refrained. He entered Draco's room to find the blonde staring at the wall blankly. He turned anguished eyes on Severus as he sat down on the bed.

"What's going on?" Draco asked. "Why are you calling Octavian 'Harry'?"

Severus sighed again. "Because that's his name," he said.

"I don't understand," Draco muttered. "Is it Harry? My Harry?"

"Yes."

"So he's not your son then? That was just a cover?"

"No, he's my son."

"How is that possible!" Draco exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air.

Severus resigned himself to telling Draco the whole sordid tale of Lily and him and their baby boy. Draco stared at him incredulously as the story unfolded, his eyes disbelieving.

"Why didn't he ever tell me?" Draco whispered once Severus had stopped talking.

"I told him not to," he replied.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't know if you would tell your father."

"Why didn't _he_ tell me though? I thought he cared about me. I thought he might have made an attempt to let me know."

"The attack a few months ago was a potion that had been placed into his food," Severus said carefully. "It turned him into a vampire." Subtlety had never been his strongest point.

Draco gasped.

"He didn't tell you because he wishes to protect you. He didn't want to turn you into a vampire as well."

"Shouldn't that be _my_ decision?" Draco asked angrily. "How could he make a choice like that for me? How could he not even give me the option?"

Severus shook his head tiredly. "He doesn't see it that way, Draco," he muttered. "He knows the decision you'd make. He values humanity; he always has. He doesn't want to turn you, no matter what your wishes are. He would feel as though he'd taken your life. Why do you think he was crying before?"

Draco sighed, seeming to deflate before Severus' eyes. "So that's it then? I'm supposed to pretend that I don't care about him? I'm supposed to act like he means nothing?"

"I cannot tell you how to act, Draco. All I can do is ask you to keep Harry's happiness in mind with whatever decision you make. Just know that he'd be devastated if he turned you."

Draco nodded. "Okay, I won't approach him then. It'll be hard, but I suppose I'll have to get used to the idea that I can't have him after all."

Severus was somewhat relieved by that, despite the sadness he felt for the young man next to him. Draco had grown up so much over the last year. Severus hated that the children around him were being forced to grow up so quickly with him powerless to stop it. He was tired of fighting, he was tired of wars, but most of all he was tired of watching life around him being destroyed by the mindless prejudice of people like the Dark Lord and his followers.

**FIVE**

Harry watched quietly from the sidelines, trying to keep as much distance as possible between himself and Draco. He didn't want a repeat of that night nearly three weeks ago. Term was almost over. His last exam was the next day before they had half a week of freedom then the train would whisk the others away. Harry sighed; at least it would be easier for him without Draco so close. Perhaps he could use the two-month holiday to work on his control.

He was walking along the corridor after finishing his last exam, Charms, when he heard an interesting noise. It sounded like heavy breathing. His natural curiosity taking over, Harry went to investigate. It was coming from behind one of the suits of armor. Walking up, he froze when he saw what it was. Draco was there, with his tongue down Marrieta Edgecombe's throat. She was panting with arousal, which Harry realized with disgust, he could smell. An unreasonable jealous rage came over him. He wanted nothing better than to rip the little tart's head off. She was touching what was solely _his_. Draco belonged to him and she had her filthy hands on Draco's bottom. Harry was shaking with rage, and had taken a step forward before he realized what he was doing. He froze in place when he noticed, fighting to regain control.

'You gave him up,' he thought to himself, balling his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. 'You have no claim to him.' It did not relieve his need to tear Merrieta Edgecombe into little pieces. He spun on his heal before he did something he would regret later and went into one of the unused classrooms to wait for Father. The spells Father had cast to monitor his moods should bring the man along shortly, just like they had the day he'd almost turned Draco.

Once the door was closed, Harry threw up a silencing spell before pacing the room rapidly. He let out an almighty scream of rage, picked up one of the chairs and threw it against the wall, where it shattered, hundreds of tiny wood chips raining down on the room. He continued screaming, picking up various bits of furniture and giving them the same treatment as the chair.

Suddenly the door flew opened and Father was there, his scent calming in its humanity, his eyes scanning the wreckage around the room nervously. He said something, but Harry's blood was pounding through his veins and he couldn't hear what it was.

Harry's vision was going white around the edges. He was barely aware of Father leading him back to the rooms they shared during the holidays. Once he was back in his room, he no longer felt the need to destroy something, but he continued pacing angrily, images of Draco kissing Marrieta swirling through his mind, consuming him. Draco belonged to _him_, goddamn it, _no one else_! He absolutely _hated_ Marrieta Edgecombe.

**SIX**

Draco had tried to forget, but he couldn't. He even propositioned Marrieta again in the hope that he could remove Harry from his mind, but it hadn't worked. Now Harry hadn't come back to the common room after curfew. He knew Snape's password, as all the Slytherins did, but he wasn't sure this constituted an emergency. However, if anyone knew where Harry had gone, Snape would. Draco had made his decision the night Snape had explained what had become of Harry. He figured all he had to do was make Harry agree with him. They belonged together. Draco simply couldn't go on without Harry any longer, not with the knowledge that Harry was still alive. He would make Harry see his point of view. With that in mind, he made his way to Snape's layer.

It was very late, so it was possible that Snape would already be in bed, but perhaps Harry was there. If so, then Draco could talk to him, convince him to turn him. When he entered Snape's quarters, he heard voices coming from the bedroom.

"He just has to cool off, Severus," the Irish woman, Airy, was saying. "He'll be fine by tomorrow."

Draco became worried. Had something happened to Harry? He moved passed the bedroom down a corridor that hadn't been there the last time he'd visited Snape's quarters a couple of years ago. He figured it must lead to Harry's sleeping quarters. He reached a door at the end on the right hand side and pushed it open. Sure enough, Harry was pacing on the other side. He froze in place when he saw Draco, a strange glint in his eyes.

"Harry?" Draco asked, closing the door with a soft click. "Are you all right?"

Rather than answer, Harry pounced on Draco, pinning him to the wall and thoroughly ravishing his mouth in a near animalistic kiss. Draco moaned under the onslaught, tangling his hands in Harry's silky locks. Harry grabbed him by the robes and flung him unceremoniously onto the bed. He literally tore the clothes from his body before pouncing on Draco again.

He ripped Draco's clothes into pieces, flinging them about the room randomly before accosting Draco with his mouth. He kissed and licked down Draco's body, finally taking Draco into his mouth, sucking hard making Draco cry out with pleasure.

He was in a frenzy, his eyes practically glowing with whatever had started this.

"Silencing… spell," Draco panted, pointing toward the door.

Harry's motions stopped and he stared at Draco with wild eyes before grabbing his wand and casting the spell. Once that was done, he threw his wand away and took Draco violently

Draco cried out as pain blossomed through him, spreading up his abdomen and down his legs before slowly fading into intense pleasure. Harry was kissing him everywhere. It was the most intense thing Draco had ever felt and then suddenly, Harry was biting into his neck, sucking on the vein hungrily. The bite, instead of hurting, drove tendrils of ecstasy through his veins.

"Harry, gods yes!" Draco panted as Harry drank from him. Harry was drinking his blood steadily, giving Draco a heady feeling of pleasure, yet making him feel very tired at the same time.

Suddenly Harry stopped drinking and leaned back, looking Draco full in the eyes as he reached up and tore open the flesh on his own neck. He lowered himself again and Draco latched onto the wound, drinking what Harry offered. He pulled greedily on that vein even as Harry bit him again. With that bite came the strongest orgasm Draco had ever felt. It pulsated through his entire body, making him release Harry's throat and cry out his pleasure. It seemed to last forever and yet not long enough The pressure on his throat grew stronger as he felt Harry's climax filling him with heat. He latched onto Harry's throat again, drinking deeply before allowing the exhaustion to claim him. That had been the best sex of his life.

**SEVEN**

Airy sat in the armchair quietly, watching the two vampires sleep. She couldn't believe that Draco had come. She sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes, feeling as though the weight of the entire world had fallen on her already overburdened shoulders. She turned her attention back to the bed when Harry began to stir. He was licking the back of Draco's neck. He sat up suddenly and stared at Airy. She knew then that the Jealous Rage had not released him. He was giving her a distinctly challenging look.

Draco awoke then, sitting up and nuzzling Harry fondly. Airy knew that the submissive bond in him would be stronger because Harry had been in a Jealous Rage when they'd copulated. It would instill in Draco a strong need to please Harry and keep him happy. Draco was kissing Harry's neck now, but Harry's eyes remained on Airy.

He pulled Draco forward into a deep kiss, his eyes never leaving her. Once he finished with his kiss, Draco went back to kissing his neck.

"Who do you belong to, Draco?" Harry asked, running his hands along Draco's back.

"Only you, my love," Draco murmured, moving his kisses to Harry's bare chest. Both boys seemed completely oblivious to their nakedness.

"Who can fuck you, Draco?" Harry asked, his eyes daring Arêthüsa to touch his mate.

"Only you, Harry," Draco replied, continuing his slow exploration of Harry's body.

Airy only crossed her arms patiently, waiting for Harry's show of possessiveness to pass.

"Who takes care of you, Draco?" he asked, running his hands through Draco's hair.

"You, my love," Draco said, running his hands down Harry's legs.

Airy leaned forward and Harry hissed at her threateningly, his fangs showing clearly.

"I'm not going to touch him, Harry," she assured him.

"He's mine," Harry said defensively.

"I know, Harry," she replied. "But maybe you should feed him. He looks a bit peaky."

Harry watched her closely as he reached out for his flask, which he placed at Draco's lips, encouraging him to drink. Draco drank deeply for several minutes before releasing it and allowing Harry to drink from it. The wildness in Harry's eyes slowly faded, leaving him looking normal as before. Draco had gone back to kissing him.

"Enough," Harry said gently, and Draco stopped kissing him right away.

"Congratulations, Harry," Arêthüsa said. "Yeh've claimed yer mate."

Harry looked at Draco quietly for a long moment before he said, "It was what he wanted." Thankfully, he didn't seem upset about it. Airy let out the breath she'd been holding in. Perhaps things would work out for the best after all.

**Author's Note: See? I told you I'd make it better. Hehehehe Keep in mind that this has been edited for content. For full version, visit the sites mentioned in my bio.  
**


	14. Subterfuge

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Subterfuge **

**ONE**

Harry was in the Great Hall around midnight, playing a game of Solitaire, Arêthüsa knitting across from him.

"Why have you never claimed your Chosen?" Harry asked, placing a queen down and frowning at it. It was red. He needed a black queen.

"Because my Chosen isn't in love with me," Airy replied. "It gets dangerous fer both parties involved when the Chosen doesn't want to be turned."

Harry looked up at her. "Why?"

"I've seen it before, so I have," Airy said. "That's how I ended up turned. This vampire kidnapped me. He took me to his layer, where I discovered that he'd kidnapped Severus as well. He kept us in cages for a few days, talking to us. He told us that his 'master' had taken him fer a mate, but he didn't want ter be a vampire. He'd killed his 'master' in a rage and was deciding which of us would be best to turn so he could kill himself."

"Did he set himself on fire?" Harry asked.

Airy nodded. "He wanted one of us to scatter the ashes and kill the other one who wasn't turned. He didn't know that Severus and I had been friends since childhood or he would've killed us himself. Vampires, fer the most part, are very secretive about their existence. Since most of the people I know are mortals, I've never had problems letting them know what I was. Aside from that, this particular vampire had been a Muggle in his previous life. He didn't know about wizards and such, and he certainly didn't care that he was committing me to what he hated. He just wanted to use me to scatter his ashes, so he did."

"And did you?" Harry asked. "Scatter his ashes, I mean?"

Airy nodded. "He'd have come back if I didn't. He wouldn't have been happy about that. Anyway, that's why I haven't claimed my Chosen. I don't want to end up like that vampire's 'master'. My chosen doesn't love me, nor will he from what I can tell. Once he dies, I'll be able to find a different Chosen, so I will."

"How do you know he doesn't love you?" Harry asked, turning back to his game.

Airy was quiet for a long time before she said, "It's not possible."

Harry was going to ask another question but he saw how sad Airy looked suddenly. He didn't want to make her sad, so he stopped his questioning. "How long are you staying?" he asked instead.

"Fer the summer," Airy replied. "I'm planning to show you and Draco the wonders of the night before yeh have to go back to school."

Harry looked toward the closed doors of the Hall when he heard footsteps.

"Its just Draco," Airy said, not even looking away from her knitting.

Harry frowned. "How d'you know?"

She shrugged. "Just do."

The doors opened and sure enough, Draco walked in, smiling when his eyes landed on Harry. "Hey," he said, sitting next to Harry and resting his head on Harry's shoulder. It had been quite the trick for him to convince his mother to let him stay the summer at Hogwarts, but he hadn't told Harry how he'd accomplished it. As the days wore on, Draco was less and less clingy. Harry didn't mind it, but he was glad that Draco was coming back to himself.

Harry placed an arm around the blonde's waist as he continued his card game. "What have you been up to, love?" he asked.

"Severus was helping me with my Defense essay," Draco replied, trailing a finger up and down Harry's arm.

Harry nodded. "I would have helped you."

He felt rather than saw Draco's smile. "I know."

Harry chuckled a bit.

"You boys want to go out and see the night?" Airy asked, placing her yarn and knitting into a pocket.

"Do you want to, Draco?"

"I do," Draco replied. "But I'm not going without you."

Harry nodded, pulling Draco to his feet. "We'll go," he said.

**TWO**

Harry liked Hogwarts in the summer time when the corridors were empty and the grounds clear. He could do what he pleased with his time, and he was free to explore the night for nearly two months, his mate always at his side. Father had requested that he and Draco keep their relationship quiet for as long as they could because Father was a known traitor to Voldemort. Draco's father was one of the loyal servants, so Draco's association with Snape's son could conceivably place him in danger. Draco had complained about this plan, but had agreed after Harry had given him a pleading look.

They stood together at the large entrance doors, watching as Ron, Hermione, and Ginny made their way up the long walk. They'd come back to school a week early so that they could spend some time with Harry. Since Draco was almost always clamped to his side, the blonde came included in the package. They'd both gone back on the sun-blocking potion so they'd be used to staying up days once school started.

Draco had been somewhat sore with Harry when he'd found out that Ron and Hermione had known all along whom he was, but it hadn't lasted long. Draco smirked now as he watched the three approach. Harry hoped that Ron remembered to call him Octavian. Ginny didn't know the truth, and Harry hoped to keep it that way.

"Octavian!" Hermione called when she was close enough, running the last few meters to greet him. Draco actually growled at her when she hugged Harry tightly.

"A friend, Draco, nothing more," Harry assured him with a smile. Hermione gave them an odd look before turning to wait for Ron and Ginny.

"Hey, I didn't know you guys were friends," Ginny said, looking between Harry and Hermione.

"Hiya, H—" Ron started, but Hermione elbowed him hard, turning his sentence into a coughing fit. "What was that for?" he demanded after he got himself under control.

"Isn't it nice to see _Octavian_ again?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Oh, er yeah," Ron said, catching on at last. "Hiya, Octavian. How's it going?"

Harry smiled at them. "Well," he replied. He took up Ginny's hand. "And this must be your dashing sister." He kissed the back of her hand, causing the poor girl to turn bright red.

"Hi," she muttered, suddenly shy.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him back. "Stop teasing her," he admonished, though he looked a tad jealous.

Harry bent to whisper in Draco's ear. "She's got nothing on you, love."

Draco smiled brightly at him. "Weasleys, Granger, a pleasure," he drawled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're looking well, Malfoy," she said politely.

"When am I not?" Draco countered.

"Play nicely, Draco," Harry admonished, only half playfully.

"Forgive me," Draco muttered apologetically. "I am well, thank you, and you?"

Hermione looked between them, presumably trying to figure out what was up. "I'm fine, thanks," she said, though her voice carried no small amount of suspicion. Harry decided that he'd have to be careful around her, lest she figure him out. It would help that they couldn't get together freely once the rest of the school arrived, but this didn't put Harry much at ease: a week was more than enough time for her to put two and two together if she put her mind to it.

**THREE**

Hermione had been devastated when she'd been led to believe that Harry had died. She'd known as soon as she'd seen 'Octavian' that it was Harry. No one else had eyes that magnificent shade of green. She even found it difficult to believe that his mother's eyes had been that color, even though she'd heard it enough times. She just couldn't imagine anyone else having eyes that green.

Something was off with him though, ever since he'd returned to school. She couldn't quite place what it was, but Malfoy had it now too. The first time she'd seen this… _oddness_ was with Arêthüsa Bennet.

The first thing she'd noticed about Arêthüsa had been her utter enthusiasm at being out in the sun, as though she'd been locked up in a cold, dark room for ages. The other thing she'd noticed was the way the woman's skin had flushed after drinking out of the flask she kept at her hip. Now that she thought about it, the same thing happened to Harry when he drank from his own flask.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind did Malfoy pull a flask exactly like Harry's out of a pocket and take a swig. His cheeks flushed a bit, and his lips became pinker. He was watching Hermione with unnatural intensity until Harry whispered something in his ear. He turned toward Harry and replied, bringing a smile to Harry's face. Harry pulled him close and Malfoy nuzzled into his neck.

Hermione frowned, trying to figure it out. She couldn't recall Harry and Malfoy ever being friendly, not even after Octavian had arrived, but now suddenly they seemed attached at the hip. It certainly didn't make any sense.

"What's in those flasks?" she asked, pointing at the one Harry had just pulled out to drink from. His hand froze almost to his mouth and his eyes studied her carefully.

"It's apple juice," he said, his hand finishing the trip to his mouth. Hermione didn't miss Malfoy's amused snort, nor the look Harry shot at him for it.

"Why d'you carry around flasks of apple juice?" she asked.

Harry licked his lips, tucking the flask away inside his robes. "For the sugar," he said. "My levels go down on occasion, so the juice helps it come back up."

"So why does Malfoy have one?" Hermione pressed, determined to figure it out.

Harry sighed and pulled her aside. "It's a potion," he muttered quietly. "To protect us."

"From what?" Hermione asked skeptically, observing the blush on his face.

"Father has been found out as a spy," he said. "Draco and I have become… close, as I'm sure you've noticed. The, er, attack, as it were, was a potion that was put into my breakfast. This potion," he shook the flask at her, "protects me from most poisons."

Hermione supposed it made sense, but she wasn't buying it. Nonetheless she said, "All right, Octavian."

Harry beamed at her, walking away to pull Malfoy close again. Hermione had never heard of such a potion. She felt it was time to consult the library. "I think I'll just go—"

"Oh no you don't," Ron interrupted, grabbing her arm and dragging her into the Great Hall after the others. "We're still on holiday. I'm not going to let you disappear in the library until the start of term." He pushed her down into a seat at the Gryffindor table. Harry sat across from her, Malfoy still clamped to his side, and Ginny sat on Ron's other side.

"So when did this happen?" Ginny asked, gesturing vaguely between Harry and Malfoy.

Malfoy smiled and nuzzled Harry's neck again.

Hermione glanced at Ron to find he was a little green, but was thankfully holding his tongue.

Harry winked at her. He actually _winked_ at her! Hermione felt that she must have been hallucinating.

"Towards the end of last year," Harry replied. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he meant the last school year, or last year proper. He winked at her again, letting her know that he knew just what she was thinking. Hermione blinked owlishly. She was most confused. She hated being confused. She'd have to give Ron the slip soon so that she could consult the library about this new mystery. If there was something Harry provided in abundance, it was mysteries, and this newest one had Hermione most intrigued.

**FOUR**

Draco could practically _see_ the cogs turning in Granger's head. She knew something was off. He smirked at her. He figured she'd have them figured out by Halloween and he told Harry as much.

Harry smiled, not taking his eyes from his bushy haired friend. "I think you may be right," he agreed. "Hermione?"

Granger blinked, as though clearing her mind, and focused her attention on Harry. "Yes, Octavian?" she asked.

"What do you think about a game of chess?" Harry asked.

Granger waved him off. "I don't much like chess," she said. "That's more Ron's department."

"No you don't," Weasley said as Granger started to get up, and pulled her back into her seat. "You're not going to the bloody library. Just have some fun for once, yeah?"

"I happen to _like_ the library, Ronald Weasley," Granger snapped. "Maybe if _you _took more interest in it, you might have made Head Boy."

Weasley rolled his eyes. "Who wants to be Head Boy?" he asked. "Being Prefect is enough work, thank you very much." He jerked his thumb in Granger's direction. "She's the new Head Girl, by the way."

Granger flushed pink, but she looked pleased with herself.

"Was there ever a doubt?" Harry asked, laughing as Granger's blush got darker. "Congratulations, Hermione."

"Thank you," Granger said, ignoring the sniggering going on around her. "I just want to look something up, Ron," she pleaded, turning her eyes back to Weasley. "I won't be there long."

"You won't be there at all because you're not going," Weasley countered. "What time is it? I'm bloody starving."

Weaslette rolled her eyes. "You're _always_ starving, Ron." The other three laughed. Draco was amazed by the dynamics of this group. They seemed to know everything about each other, and the atmosphere around them was positively comfortable. He'd been friends with Greg and Vince for ages and they still didn't have this kind of rapport. It made him somewhat jealous of Harry.

Harry seemed to sense the direction his thoughts had gone because he felt a tight squeeze on his waist. He looked up at his green-eyed beauty to find him smiling. Draco stretched up to nuzzle against that pale neck, loving the smell of his lover. He didn't understand why Harry had a scent when Arêthüsa did not, but he wasn't about to question it; he loved it. It would be difficult for him to keep his distance once school started back up, but he'd do it because it made Harry happy.

**FIVE**

Midnight had always been a good time for sneaking about and doing what needed to get done: with this thought in mind, Hermione snuck out of Gryffindor Tower at midnight, making her way to the library. She wanted to find out what was going on, and she wanted to find out _now_.

She was careful to peek around corners before entering the corridors because she felt that it was highly possible that she'd run into Harry on her way. She knew that sneaking around trying to figure it out would probably make Harry angry, but she knew he wasn't going to tell her. She slowly and carefully pushed the doors to the library open, thankful that they were always kept well oiled.

Once inside, she realized that she had no idea where to start her search. It could be anything, how would she know which subject was the right subject? With a sigh she moved into the Dark Arts section, figuring it would be as good a place as any to begin her search. After collecting a large stack of books that she could hardly carry, let alone see around, she made her way to the nearest table, carefully setting her stack down, trying not to make a sound. Once that was accomplished, she sat down, opened the topmost book and began to read.

"And here I thought you were the sensible one," a woman said somewhere in the shadows some time later.

Hermione jumped violently and had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from screaming aloud. She searched the shadows just as Arêthüsa Bennet stepped into a beam of moonlight. Hermione lowered her hand, glaring at the woman. "You scared me half to death!" she snapped, though quietly.

Arêthüsa chuckled. "Sorry 'bout that," she said, but she didn't sound like she meant it.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I know what yer up to," Arêthüsa replied.

"Oh yeah? Are you going to tell Harry?"

"No."

"Then let me get back to it."

"I'm afraid yer lookin' in the wrong books."

Hermione stared incredulously. This woman, Arêthüsa Bennet, who had just as much to hide as Harry if not more so, was going to help her figure it out? She didn't understand why. "Is that so?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested.

Arêthüsa chuckled, letting her know that she'd failed miserably. "'Tis," she replied. "He's not going to appreciate this, yeh know."

"I know, but I need to know what's going on."

"Then yeh better find some different books to read."

"You could just tell me and save me the trouble."

"See, but if I did that and Harry asked me I'd have to say I told yeh. If yeh read about it, then I can say no."

Hermione found this logic somewhat disturbing.

Arêthüsa moved out of the beam of light to lean against a bookcase. "I think if yeh worked more on _this_ side of the library, yeh might have more luck. Of course, I could be wrong." She smiled pleasantly, and then she was gone.

Hermione's head whipped around, searching for the woman, but she was just gone, just like that. She frowned, looking in the shadows carefully, wondering how Arêthüsa did that. She couldn't have Disapparated, so where did she go? She shook her head, waving her wand to send the Dark Arts books back to their shelves, and moved to the bookcase Arêthüsa had been leaning on. It was the section on Dark Creatures. Frowning, Hermione began her search anew.

**SIX**

The start of school had Harry on edge. Keeping distance between Draco and himself was proving to be more difficult than he'd anticipated. Of course, he could watch without suspicion, so watch he did. He could tell that Draco didn't like this setup any more than he did, perhaps less so, and he smirked lightly as he watched Draco fidget discontentedly in his seat during Transfiguration.

"Since you find the topic so amusing, Mr. Snape, perhaps you wouldn't mind doing a little demonstration," McGonagall said with a note of irritation.

Harry bowed his head slightly, stood up and turned his partner, Blaise, into a black Pomeranian; the girls in the class all proclaimed the dog's cuteness in high pitched, falsely sweet voices that forcefully reminded Harry of Delores Umbridge. He had to forcibly keep himself from cringing as he hurriedly turned Blaise back into a human.

McGonagall's lips were pursed when he turned back to her. "Well done, Mr. Snape," she said grudgingly. "Ten points to Slytherin."

Harry nodded and sat back down. He could see Draco suppressing laughter across the room. He tried not to show his irritation because he knew that would only make Draco laugh harder than ever. He rolled his eyes fondly as he returned to his Draco watching, one ear still tuned in on the lesson. Blaise gave him an odd look before opening his book to the relevant chapter. Harry snickered lightly at his confusion before finishing his own notes.

Harry's room had been moved to Draco's, much to his delight, so their little game could end at the end of the day before starting again in the morning. Airy had explained to Dumbledore that if they were kept apart too long the dominant – Harry - would not be responsible for his actions. Especially since his bond with Draco was so new. Later, when they'd been together for a while, they'd be able to spend longer amounts of time separated without loosing touch with themselves. Until then, they'd have to persevere for as long as possible without giving the game away. Unfortunately, sharing a room did nothing to soothe Harry's jealousy where Draco was concerned. It was a mere three months into term when it reared its ugly head.

**SEVEN**

Draco had been out, placating the other two thirds of Gryffindor's Golden Trio, when he'd felt a strong desire to see Harry. It was spawned from a strong suspicion that Granger had their little secret figured out. She kept giving him this look, as though waiting for him to eat her alive. Her eyes had narrowed when he'd taken a swig from his hip flask. Yes, she definitely had something brewing in her little brain. He didn't want to consider just how much she'd figured out, so he returned to Slytherin, intent on seeing his lover.

Harry was in a chair, in a dark corner of the common room, when Draco entered. His eyes immediately latched onto the blonde as he made his way across the room, heading for their shared bedroom. Pansy headed him off, steering him into the wall next to the corridor.

"Draco, love," she purred, licking up his chin. He was very aware of Harry's gaze.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" Draco sneered, pushing the girl away from him. He wanted to resolve this problem before things got ugly.

"You've been ignoring me," she said with a pout, obviously trying to garner his sympathy. It wasn't working. The only thing Draco was worried about was Harry killing the stupid little chit before he could get her off of him.

"And what does that tell you?" Draco muttered, trying to keep her away without hurting her. Somehow, he felt that Professor Snape would be less than impressed with him if he injured a fellow Slytherin, however accidental it might be.

Pansy got close and nibbled on his ear. "You're just not used to being loved, darling," she replied, completely oblivious to the increasingly angry vampire who was no longer sitting in his chair. "I'll fix that for you."

Quite suddenly, Pansy was halfway across the room and Draco's mouth was being assaulted by his incredibly possessive lover's tongue. Draco was vaguely aware of the sudden silence ringing in the Slytherin commons. As fast as it had started, the kiss was over and Harry was pinning Pansy to the wall next to Draco.

"Do _not_ touch him again," he growled at her. "He _belongs_ to _me_."

"I don't know who you think you are, but—" Pansy started.

"I _said_, he _belongs_ to _me_," Harry cut her off, pressing her more firmly into the wall. "Do you understand?"

Draco was aware that Harry was forcibly keeping his temper in check; otherwise, Pansy would already have been dead. He needed to control this situation fast, before Harry lost his grip entirely.

He placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Octavian," he whispered in his ear, but Harry ignored him.

"If you ever touch him again, I will rip your heart out and force you to eat it," he growled at Pansy, who was beginning to tremble in fear.

"Octavian," Draco said again, a little louder.

Harry's head spun around and he leveled a glare at Draco that would have frightened Satan. "And _you_ were _letting_ her touch you," he growled.

Draco swallowed nervously. The last time Harry had become jealous, he had turned Draco into a vampire. "I was trying to get her away, Octavian," he soothed.

"You weren't trying hard enough," Harry snapped, spinning back to Pansy and pushing her tighter to the wall, one hand around her neck. She was starting to turn blue.

"I just didn't want to hurt her, Octavian," Draco said, rubbing up and down Harry's arms. "You know I'd never do anything with her."

Harry abruptly let Pansy drop to the floor, pulling Draco into his arms and kissing him again. Pansy struggled back to her feet behind them.

"You just wait until I till Professor Snape about this," she threatened, rubbing her throat gingerly.

Harry spun back to her, pulling Draco close to his side. "Whom do you belong to, Draco?" he asked, his eyes on Pansy.

"Only you, my love. Only you," Draco replied, kissing Harry's neck.

Harry smirked at Pansy, a dangerous smirk that spoke of worlds of pain should she ever come near Draco again. "That's exactly right," he sneered at the poor girl. "Don't forget it." He began down the corridor, pulling Draco behind him.

'Well,' Draco thought. 'So much for our cunning subterfuge.' He knew he was in for it once they reached the bedroom, and Harry didn't disappoint him. As soon as the door closed, Harry attacked his neck, biting and licking possessively. He ripped Draco's clothes off violently before unceremoniously flinging Draco onto his bed. He banished his own clothes, as he used to do when they'd be fucking in the abandoned classroom, and jumped onto Draco, biting down on Draco's neck again. He attacked Draco's body, touching, licking and biting everything he could reach before lubing himself up and roughly pushing himself inside, immediately starting a fast pace.

Draco cried out, meeting Harry's hips with his own, thrust for thrust, panting Harry's name as the pain and pleasure blended inside of him. He could feel his climax begging for release, but Harry kept a tight pinching hold of the bottom of his shaft, keeping his orgasm at bay.

"Harry, please," Draco begged, locking his ankles around Harry's waist.

"Say it!" Harry demanded, not relinquishing his hold on Draco's sex.

"I'm yours!" Draco cried, pulling himself forward, trying to get more contact between them.

Harry growled in response, pumping Draco's cock fast.

"Yes, gods yes!" Draco screamed as his climax ripped through him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. He moaned loudly as he felt Harry's come filling him, pulling the dark haired vampire down for a fierce kiss.

Harry collapsed on top of him, panting harshly. "No one touches you," he said into Draco's ear. "Understand?"

Draco ran a hand through Harry's sweaty hair. "I know, my love," he agreed.

Harry pushed himself up to look into Draco's eyes. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, concern filtering into his tone.

Draco smiled to reassure him. "No, I'm all right," he said. "We need to talk, though."

Harry gave him a suspicious look before rolling off of him and pulling him onto his lap. "What about?" he asked.

"People touching me," Draco replied.

Harry growled.

"Listen to me," Draco said, placing a hand on Harry's bare chest. "I'll never love anyone but you. I'll never sleep with anyone but you, but somewhere along the way, someone's bound to touch me. I can't avoid contact with people for the rest of eternity. You have to trust that I won't betray you, that's all."

"She wasn't just _touching_ you, Draco," Harry said. "She was slobbering all over you. I can still smell her stench on you."

"I know that, Harry. I was attempting to find a way to get her off of me without injuring her."

"That's—"

"Harry, please listen to me. If you keep on like you've been, you're going to get us both thrown out of school. Dumbledore's already wary of us being here. Do you want to give him more cause?"

Harry was very still behind him, so Draco waited patiently for him to say something. Finally, he said, "I will try harder to keep my temper in check."

"Thank you," Draco replied.

"But you have to try harder to keep people from slobbering all over you as well."

Draco chuckled. "Harry, after that display tonight, I don't think anyone is going to be coming anywhere near me any time soon."

Harry chuckled as well. "Touché," he muttered.

**EIGHT**

Hermione smiled triumphantly after Harry and Draco turned the far corner of the corridor. She'd faked giving Harry a hug so she could lift his flask off of his hip. To her intense surprise, Harry hadn't noticed. She had her suspicions about what was going on, but the contents of the flask now safely hidden in her pocket would confirm those suspicions. She snuck up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to find out what was inside of it. Once there, she checked to make sure Myrtle was not in the room before tipping the flask upside down over one of the sinks. Thick red blood poured out, making Hermione smile with triumph. Her smile faded quickly as she wondered how this had come about. Surely that Arêthüsa woman hadn't changed Harry and Draco? If she had, why would she have bothered to help Hermione figure out the secret? She would have led Hermione in the _wrong_ direction more likely.

Hermione frowned as she replaced the flask in her pocket and rinsed out the sink, pondering over this puzzle. So Arêthüsa hadn't turned them. In that case, who had? Some vampire in the forbidden forest maybe? Hermione shook her head, leaving the bathroom to head back to Gryffindor. Maybe a vampire had broken into the school sometime during the last year? That seemed highly unlikely, but the books said that vampires had abilities that surpassed wizards, even the ones who had been Muggles before they were turned. It was possible that a vampire could have fooled Hogwarts' wards. Just as she reached the Gryffindor portrait, a memory came to her.

Her eyes widened as she saw Harry in her mind's eyes, screaming in pain as smoke rose from his skin. Professor Snape had run down from the head table to cover Harry with his outer robes and carried Harry out of the Great Hall. A potion, she realized. Someone had spiked Harry's breakfast with a potion that had turned him into a vampire.

She frowned. "Lithuania," she muttered, climbing through the portrait hole. If it had been a potion, then how had Draco been turned? She knew he hadn't been a vampire the last time she'd seen him before the summer break, but now he was. How had that happened? She sat down in front of the fire, ignoring everyone around her. She thought of her research and compared what she had learned with what she'd observed from Harry and Draco. Her face grew slack as she realized what had happened. Draco was Harry's mate! It made perfect sense! She remembered the way Harry had kept Draco clamped firmly to his side the whole week before term had started.

**NINE**

Harry touched his hip to find it bare. He frowned. "May I borrow your flask?" he asked his mate.

Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, but handed the flask over. "Have you lost yours?" he asked.

Harry shook his head, thinking of Hermione's odd behavior earlier. "Hermione lifted it," he muttered, handing the flask back to Draco after taking a long swig.

"Hermione?" Draco asked, reattaching the flask to his hip. "When?"

Harry turned to him. "Yesterday, when she hugged me for no apparent reason. I think she's figured us out."

"Oh," Draco muttered.

Harry snorted. 'Oh' indeed.


	15. The Winds of Change

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The Winds of Change**

**ONE**

Hermione was walking down the corridor, wondering why Harry had decided not to tell her about becoming a vampire. She thought, at first, that he was ashamed of what he'd become, but that wouldn't explain why he'd turned Malfoy. In her estimation of Harry, he would have been horrified by the prospect of turning someone else into a vampire, so why did Harry do it? Was he forced to do it? Did Malfoy curse him into doing it?

She didn't think Malfoy would have forced such an issue, unless he didn't know that the mate to a vampire was generally the submissive one in the relationship. Her idea of Malfoy had him painted as someone who would rather die than give up control over his life. Her musings were abruptly cut short as she was yanked unceremoniously into a classroom she was passing.

"Harry?" she asked after the world had stopped spinning. Looking around, she saw that Malfoy was sitting on the teacher's desk at the front of room, swinging his legs and looking decidedly cheerful. She gulped. "Erm, what's up?"

Harry had his arms crossed over his chest and was scowling at her, looking remarkably like his father. "Give me my flask," he said coolly.

Hermione swallowed and pulled the flask from her robe pocket. She'd been planning to discreetly place it back on Harry's person sometime today. "I only wanted to see if I'd guessed right," she justified.

Harry snorted, clearly unimpressed as he took a long swig from the flask. "Have you any idea how dangerous taking this could have been," he asked once he'd finished drinking.

"Dangerous?" Hermione asked feeling slightly confused. "You're never out of Malfoy's presence. I knew you could use his until you got yours back."

"I see," Harry said, still sounding cool. "And I suppose that it never crossed your mind that I might become hungry while not in Draco's presence."

"Well, I know—"

"You should have asked me!" Harry burst out angrily. Across the room, Malfoy jumped down from the desk and approached Harry. He whispered something in Harry's ear, and Harry took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked calmer. "You should have asked me," he repeated.

"Would you have told me?" Hermione asked. "I didn't think you would, so I lifted the flask. I only wanted to know what you've been hiding from me!"

"And you have the right to all of my secrets?" Harry retorted, beginning to sound angry again. "You have the right to know everything I do and say and feel and _am_, but I have no such rights concerning you? Is that it?"

"No, Harry," Hermione tried to reason with him. "I just worry about you so. I wanted to know so that I would be prepared should something happen to you in the future that pertains to this."

"You endangered my life, as well as the lives of the inhabitants of this school by lifting my flask," Harry said in a low, deadly voice, much the same as the one Professor Snape used when he was preparing to issue a month of detention. "You didn't _think_. The only thing you cared about was satiating your curiosity. Next time, ask me before doing something so reckless."

Hermione felt as though shards of glass had started tearing at her heart muscle. Harry had _never_, in all their long acquaintance, scolded her in this manner. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said quietly. "I just wanted to know."

Harry stared at her for a long moment, and Malfoy placed his hand on the small of Harry's back, whispering again in his ear. "You have breached my trust," Harry told her. "Once again, I find you dealing with me in a manner that does not befit your role as my best friend. Had the tables been turned, I would have asked you, before endangering your life." His eyes were like cold chips of green tinted glass.

Hermione was stunned. She hadn't realized that Harry would take her theft of the flask so seriously. "Harry, I—"

"I'm going now," Harry interrupted her. "I think it wiser for me to leave your presence for right now. I'll contact you when I'm feeling more rational." He turned abruptly and left the room.

Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest standing in a pose similar to the one Harry had sported. "You know, Granger," he commented lightly, sounding as cheerful as he still looked. "That was a surprisingly Slytherin tactic, lifting Harry's flask. I was almost impressed." He raised an eyebrow at her.

Hermione sighed and rubbed at her eyes. She told herself she wouldn't cry. "What am I going to do?" she asked rhetorically.

Malfoy chuckled lightly. "Give him a week and he'll be ready to forgive you," he said. His face took on a strange expression, which Hermione couldn't name. "He loves you, you know, you and Weasley both. You shouldn't take advantage of that." He left after favoring her with a long look.

**TWO**

Severus was grading papers when suddenly there was someone standing next to him. "Can't you knock, like any normal person?" he asked, not bothering to look up from his work.

Airy chuckled, plopping into the chair across from him. "Yer no fun anymore, Severus," she commented.

"So you've told me," Severus responded dryly. "Harry's gone out with Draco somewhere."

"And I canna come around to see _you_?" Airy asked, chuckling again.

Severus slowly raised his eyes to look at her. She had one long leg dangling over the arm of her chair, one hand resting in her lap, the other playing with a round paperweight on Severus' desk. She wasn't looking at him.

"Has something happened that I should know about?" he asked slowly.

She shook her head mutely.

"What's wrong, Airy?" Severus asked, putting down his quill and folding his hands on the desktop.

"Not a thing," Airy replied, still not looking at him.

"No?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "You look like you're ready to burst into tears."

"Nah," she replied. "I was bored at home, so I was, so I came by." She finally looked at him, her large, expressive brown eyes wide. "Unless yeh don' want me here?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Severus muttered gently. "You know you are always welcome here."

Just as Airy looked about ready to say something, the door opened. Harry paused when he saw them. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes moving between them. "I'll come back later." He closed the door before either of them could say anything. Airy stood.

"I didn't realize Harry was going to be droppin' by," she said by way of explanation. "I'll just get goin' then."

Severus stood, came around the table, and grabbed her arm. "You're more than welcome to stay," he said.

Airy turned slowly, looking down at where he held her. She looked almost frightened. "Please let go of me," she said softly. Severus dropped her arm as though he'd been burned. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. "I must go," Airy said, and just like that, she was gone.

Severus closed his eyes slowly, wondering what had just passed between them. A soft knock made him look up.

Harry was peeking his head through the partially opened door. "Everything all right?" he asked.

"Fine," Severus said shortly, whirling around and sitting back down behind his desk. He picked up his quill, pretending to continue grading papers.

"Are _you_ all right, Dad?" Harry asked him, slipping fully into the room and closing the door behind him.

"I'm fine," Severus said, not looking at his son.

"You seem upset," Harry pressed gently.

"I said 'I'm fine'," Severus said, grinding his teeth. "Was there something you needed?"

Harry stood silently for a long moment before saying, "You should go after her."

Severus slammed his quill down and glared at his offspring. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

Harry glared right back at him. Damn the boy for picking up his facial expressions. "I think you know what I'm talking about," he said darkly.

Severus snorted, picking his quill back up. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly.

"Yes," Severus replied, dipping the quill in red ink.

"You're being stupid," Harry informed him.

"I beg your pardon?" Severus said incredulously, staring at his son angrily. "I am your father, and as such, I demand respect!"

"Yeah?" Harry said, not backing down. "You're making the same mistake I almost made with Draco!" He pointed angrily at the door. "It's obvious that you care for her! Go after her!"

"I do not 'care' for her!" Severus yelled, standing up and placing the palms of his hands flat on the desk.

"No?" Harry yelled right back. "You looked stricken when I walked in here!"

"I cannot!" Severus insisted.

"Why the hell not?" Harry asked, throwing his hands into the air.

"You wouldn't understand," Severus muttered, dropping back into his seat.

"Try me," Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms again.

Severus said nothing, continuing to grade his papers.

"This is about Mum, isn't it," Harry guessed correctly, much to Severus' irritation.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Severus ground out.

"Don't I?" Harry asked. "You're afraid of caring for Arêthüsa because she was Mum's best friend." He strode forward, placing his hands of Severus' desk. "Well, guess what. Mum's dead and she wouldn't want you to pass up being happy again just because of that!"

"You never even knew your mother!" Severus screamed, looking at his son angrily. "You don't know _what_ she would have wanted!"

"God, you're acting like an idiot!" Harry yelled. "You think I don't see how you look at her? Do you think I'm blind? You're in love with her, so go to her and tell her that!"

"Get out," Severus groused, looking back down.

"Father—" Harry started.

"I said 'get out'!" Severus screamed, grabbing his hair.

Harry stared at him for a long moment. "Fine," he said shortly. "Just don't come crying to me when you're old and alone." Severus looked up to tell him off, except he was gone, the slowly closing door the only sign that he was ever there.

"Bloody vampires," he muttered, closing his eyes and rubbing his face in frustration.

**THREE**

"H-," Hermione stopped and cleared her throat nervously. "Octavian, may I speak with you a moment?"

Harry looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. "Fine," he said, standing from the library table and touching Draco's shoulder gently. He looked in a terrible mood.

"If I'm interrupting something—" Hermione started.

"You're not," Harry muttered, passing her and going out into the corridor. Hermione sighed and followed him. "What?" he asked once they were alone.

Hermione cleared her throat again. "Um, I've been thinking about what you said," she muttered.

"Have you, then?" Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione ignored his tone. "It was really irresponsible for me to take your… erm, _things_ the way I did. I didn't mean to cause any trouble, and I hope you can forgive me."

Harry sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. He said nothing.

"Please, Ha- Octavian!" Hermione pleaded. "I know I was wrong! You know how I get when I want to know something, I promise I'll ask you next time instead of going behind your back, I was just afraid that you'd—"

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry interrupted her gently. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

Hermione stared at him.

Harry sighed again. "It's been a rough day," he muttered.

"Did you have a fight with Draco?" she asked meekly.

"No," Harry replied. "With Father."

"Oh," Hermione muttered. "I'm sorry, I'll just-"

Harry placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thanks for coming to talk to me about this," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Well, I have to do my rounds now," she told him. "I'll see you later?"

Harry nodded and went back into the library.

Hermione, ever curious, was now wondering what Harry and Snape could have been fighting about. She was on the verge of going back into the library to ask, when she took a deep breath and decided to mind her own business. Her curiosity had caused her enough grief for the time being. She went down the corridor to begin her rounds, putting the matter from her mind.

**FOUR**

Severus was seated on his divan, sipping a glass of brandy, regretting yelling at Harry the way he had. The boy just didn't understand what it was like, falling in love with your first love's best friend. Aside from that, Airy didn't appear to want his affection. The way she'd rebuffed such an innocent touch earlier went to show that she wasn't interested.

"I'm sorry," a voice said gently behind him.

Severus turned to regard his son. Harry looked miserable, as though he'd just heard that his pet cat had died. "Yeah," Severus muttered, turning back to the fire. "So am I."

Harry crossed the room and sat down next to Severus. "I just worry about you, Father," he said.

Severus sighed heavily. "Airy isn't interested in me," he said. "I touched her arm today, and she acted as though she'd become diseased. Whatever I may feel, it means nothing."

"Father," Harry said, gently touching Severus' arm. "You don't know what she was thinking. You won't until you talk to her. Please? It would ease my mind."

Severus looked down into his glass, took a sip, and gave one sharp nod to let Harry know he'd try. He didn't think anything would come of it, but if it would ease one of Harry's many burdens, then it was worth the effort.

**FIVE**

Arêthüsa was standing quietly, looking out at the lights of London. It was such a beautiful city. She stretched her arms over her head, the sweatshirt she was wearing riding up to show her belly button. "Come in," she said, knowing that Severus was standing on the other side of the door, even though he hadn't knocked. He smelled divine, even through the door.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Severus said as he came in and closed the door gently behind him.

"Nah," Airy replied. "I'm just lookin' at the city, so I am. Would you like a drink?"

Severus shook his head silently, moving farther into the room. "I think we need to talk."

"Oh?" Airy asked, attempting to keep some distance between them. Much to her horror, it was becoming more difficult over time to keep from pouncing on the man. It used to be okay, but now just having him in the same room was torturous. Unfortunately, Severus seemed determined to get within touching distance.

Severus sighed and dropped onto the divan, rubbing his face. "Why do you insist on acting as though I am infected?" he asked her.

She stared at him for a moment, bewildered. She hadn't thought she was being that obvious. Of course, Severus _was_ a spy, so she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised.

"It's me who's infected," she said.

"What are you talking about?" Severus turned to study her face and she took a step back. His eyes passed over every nuance of her, as though memorizing what she looked like so he could dream of her later. His eyes widened after a moment. "Of course," he whispered, not looking away. "Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are yeh talkin' abou', Severus?" Airy asked, trying to sound amused, and failing. Severus stood up and approached her. She backed away until her bottom bumped the windowsill.

"You should have told me," Severus said softly, placing his hands on either side of her and leaning forward.

"Should have told yeh what?" Airy asked, her voice coming as a gently whisper.

"That I was your Chosen," Severus replied.

"I couldn't," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I canna turn yeh, Severus," she replied. "I won't."

"Why?" he asked again.

Airy began trembling with the effort of not pouncing on him and making him hers. "It's wrong," she told him.

"Why?" he asked yet again.

"It just is!" she exclaimed.

"Is it?" he asked. "Everyone I care about is a vampire, so should I not also be?"

"Yeh… yeh want this life?" Airy whispered, surprised.

"I want _you_," Severus replied. "Regardless of the consequences."

"But you'd be my… submissive," Airy argued.

"I know," Severus informed her.

"Yeh'd be stuck with me for eternity."

"I know."

"Yeh'd be driven to please me."

"I _know_." And he kissed her. Airy lost herself to the kiss immediately, her arms going around Severus' neck and pulling him close as the Mating Lust washed over her.

**SIX**

Severus was rather surprised by the intensity that came over Arêthüsa as the kiss continued. Knowing that she'd be dominant and aggressive wasn't enough to prepare him for the real thing. Her hands attacked the Muggle button down he'd donned to come into Muggle London, tearing the fabric and sending buttons flying in every direction. She began pushing him backward, her mouth never leaving his, until he'd fallen on his back onto the divan.

She straddled him, her hands immediately starting to work on his trousers, her lips traveling over his jaw and down onto his neck. She got the zip down on his trousers and backed up, pulling them and his pants along with her. Once he was disrobed, she took off her sweatshirt, throwing it behind her to land on the floor. Severus reached up and touched her full breasts, loving the soft feel of them in his hands. He sat up to kiss them, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it delightedly. She tasted wonderful. She was wiggling delightfully on top of him, and when he next opened his eyes, he saw that she'd somehow taken off the last of her clothes. After they finished making love, Airy sat up looking amazed.

"Yeh still smell wonderful," she said, her hands roaming his chest softly. "I didn't know that would happen."

Severus breathed in deeply and found that she smelled like a field of wild roses. "As do you," he informed him, feeling himself stirring again. She began to rock gently, the pace not as frenzied now the he was as she. He sat up and pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply as they made love again, kneading her soft flesh as she continued riding him. He felt his canines lengthening, and moved his kisses to her artery, when his bit down gently and began suckling at her blood. She did the same to him, and they came together, drinking each other's life's blood until they collapsed onto the divan.

"This means you have to stay with me now," Severus joked, holding her tightly and wondering what Dumbledore would say when he found out. Amazingly, he didn't much care one way or the other.

"It does, doesn't it," Arêthüsa agreed. "Much as I like this position, I think we'll be a might uncomfortable if we fall asleep here."

Severus chuckled. "I agree." She climbed off of him and he stood, thinking she looked even more beautiful now than she had when he'd walked in.

"Let's go to Hogwarts," she said, walking around the room and gathering their clothes. "We need to tell Harry that he's got a new stepmother, so we do."

"Yes," Severus agreed. He took her hand, making her look up at him. "After we take a shower." He led her to the bathroom.

**SEVEN**

Harry knew as soon as he saw Father that he'd been turned. Arêthüsa was behind him, looking happy and concerned at the same time. Harry smiled at them. "Welcome to the family, Stepmother," he said lightly.

A relieved look passed over Airy's face. "Don't yeh go calling me Stepmother," she said, shaking a finger at him. "It's Airy to you, mister."

Harry chuckled, mock bowing to her. "As you wish." He waited until they began moving toward the bedroom before adding, "Stepmother." He ran from their rooms before she could react.

"You seem in a good mood," Draco commented when Harry entered their room.

"Dad's home," Harry replied. Draco was sitting at the desk, working on his Transfiguration homework. Harry waited until Draco was dipping his quill, and then said, "He brought me home a new stepmother."

Draco jerked with surprise, knocking over his inkwell and spilling ink on the table and the carpet.

Harry bent forward and placed his hands on his knees to support himself as he laughed.

Draco scowled at him before cleaning up the mess. "What are you talking about?" he groused, not at all happy with Harry's little joke.

Harry pulled Draco up from his seat and embraced him. "Aw, baby, you know you would have done the same thing."

Draco pushed him away and pretended to be angry, pouting prettily and crossing his arms over his chest. "As if," he said. "I'd have waited until you were holding something that would break when it hit the ground."

Harry laughed again and kissed Draco long and deep.

When they'd pulled away, Draco asked, "What's this about a stepmother?"

Harry smiled. "Do you remember Arêthüsa talking about her Chosen?"

"She said she wasn't going to… no! She was talking about Professor Snape?"

Harry nodded. "Dad went over to her place this evening, and I guess things turned out well."

"So she turned him?" Draco asked. "He's a vampire now?"

"Yup," Harry chirped, bringing a smile to Draco's face.

"Our little family just keeps growing, doesn't it?" Draco said.

Harry lost a bit of his cheer, but nodded in agreement.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, tightening his hold on Harry's waist.

"It's nothing," Harry replied. He kissed Draco again and moved to the desk. "What say we knock out some of this homework?"

Draco was watching him closely, but agreed. For that, Harry was thankful.


	16. Reality Beckons

**Author's Note: So… yeah, it took me a really long time to write this chapter. Hopefully, the next one will come more easily to me. Sorry for the long delay. Enjoy! **

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Reality Beckons**

**One**

Severus groaned as he awoke, squinting his eyes and wondering what the hell he'd been thinking. "Fuck," he muttered, rubbing his face and trying desperately not to fall back to sleep.

"Wakey, wakey, Father," a voice said from the doorway. Severus turned to find his son looking far too smug for his tastes. Harry came closer and handed Severus his flask. "Have some breakfast."

Severus glared ineffectually before snatching the flask and taking a long drink. "I can't imagine what you're so happy about," he groused moodily, flopping back down on the bed.

"I brought you some potion too," Harry said by way of a reply. He held out a vial of the Sun Blocking Potion. "You can use my flask for today, but I suggest having Airy go get you one of your own while you're in class."

"Of course," Severus muttered, sitting back up and taking the potion. "You realize that the only reason you're getting away with speaking to me that way is because the sun beckons violently, yes?"

Harry chuckled. "Of course, Father," he said with amusement. "Don't forget to transfigure some blood for breakfast. We wouldn't want anyone to notice anything… _unusual_." He waved lightly and left, chuckling under his breath.

"Bloody teenagers," Severus muttered, swinging his legs out of bed. He stumbled toward his wardrobe, trying to shake the feeling that he should still be asleep.

"What're yeh doin?" Airy asked sleepily from the bed.

"I still have classes to teach," Severus replied, pulling out his robes.

"Retire early," Airy replied, and then she yawned expansively and turned onto her side.

Severus paused in the act of pulling on his robes, unsure if she was being serious. "Is that your wish?" he asked carefully.

"What're ya talkin' about?" Airy asked, not bothering to turn over.

"Is it your wish for me to take retirement?" Severus asked.

Airy turned to face him and looked curiously in his direction. "I was bein flip," she said, frowning a little when Severus' expression cleared a bit. "Why? Did ya think I was serious?"

Severus resisted the urge to fidget uncomfortably. "I wasn't sure," he replied. "I do… appreciate my job, if not enjoy it, but if you wanted me to—"

"Stop," Airy interrupted. When Severus fell silent she continued. "It's just creepy seein' you bein' all… nervous. I'll never tell yeh what yeh can and canna do for yer livin', Severus. Whatever yeh do, its yer choice, not mine."

Severus nodded. "Very well. I was wondering if, while I am teaching, you wouldn't mind going into London for me?"

"Whatever for?"

"I need a flask. Harry has let me borrow his for the day, but that cannot be anything other than a short term arrangement."

Airy nodded thoughtfully. "I'll go a bit later… the sun beckons."

"Tell me about it," Severus muttered before going to her and kissing her goodbye. He was so tired that it took all of his concentration just to walk straight. As a consequence, he was nearly unbearable to his students in class. His mood was not lifted at all when he had to spend two hours with Harry and Draco both smirking at him every time he lost his temper.

**TWO**

Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes vigorously. This was the second night in a row that he'd been unable to rest. Vampires usually didn't dream, but Harry had been getting nightmares for the last two nights. He was afraid that his nice peacefully existence was about to be interrupted. Voldemort was in a very bad mood. It appeared that he'd finally been informed of Draco's involvement with Snape's son. This thought made Harry turn his eyes toward the sleeping blond, who was flat on his back looking lovely. Harry worried for him. He worried that one day he'd get out of class to find that Draco was gone. Shaking his head, he wandered out to the common room and started his Astronomy chart, which was due on Monday.

This new feeling of dread resulted in Harry becoming more possessive of Draco than he'd been in a long while.

"Harry, I don't need a bloody baby-sitter everywhere I go," Draco groused as Harry made to follow him out of their room. "I'm going to Arithmancy, not another country."

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he was somewhat satisfied when he saw Draco gulp nervously. "I am going to walk you to class, and you are not going to argue with me," he growled.

Draco blinked a bit, looking slightly confused, but he nodded vigorously in consent.

"You will not question me about this again," Harry said, stepping closer.

Draco's eyes lowered submissively. "I'm sorry," he said meekly.

Harry nodded sharply, and then swept Draco into his arms, kissing him soundly. Draco stared at him silently for a moment before taking his hand and leading him out of the dorm.

Once they reached the classroom, Harry pulled Draco to him and kissed him again. "You will wait here, within sight of the professor and wait for me after class ends."

"Yes, Octavian," Draco muttered, his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I will wait."

Harry sighed deeply. "I love you," he whispered.

Draco swallowed and closed his eyes. "I love you too," he replied. He looked into Harry's eyes again before going into class. Harry wandered out to the grounds, a frown on his face as he tried to find a way to keep Draco safe while destroying Voldemort.

**THREE**

Draco sighed as he dropped his bag by his chair in Arithmancy. He had no idea what was going on with Harry lately, but he was extremely worried. He rather liked it when Harry got all possessive and demanding, but Harry had seemed almost desperate for Draco to do as he was asked without complaint. He wanted to know what was bothering Harry, but he'd already agreed to Harry's condition of not talking about it. How was he supposed to get around that?

"Draco?" Hermione whispered next to him, pulling him down into his seat by his arm. "What is it?"

Draco shook his head, unsure of how to express these fears to a girl who was more Harry's friend than his own. "H- Octavian has been behaving very oddly for the last few days. I just wish I knew what was bothering him."

"Have you asked him?" Hermione asked gently.

"He's forbidden me from asking," Draco replied.

"But couldn't you—" Hermione started.

"If the two of you are finished, I'd like to get back to my lesson," Professor Vector interrupted, looking a bit peeved.

Hermione blushed and returned her attention to her book. "Sorry, Professor," she muttered.

Draco didn't bother offering his own apology and simply got out his supplies. He worked in silence, doing his very best to concentrate, but Harry's fierce expression from that morning had not left his mind. He was desperate to know more about what was bothering his mate.

"Has this anything to do with Professor Snape being… you know… _different_?" Hermione asked after class was over and they headed toward the door.

"I don't think so," Draco replied thoughtfully. "Octavian didn't seem too bothered by it, to be honest. I think he just wants his father to be happy. This is something else."

"What is?" Harry asked, his arms crossed over his chest where he was leaning against the wall outside of the classroom.

Hermione jumped and put her hand over her heart. "Good gracious, Octavian!" she cried, sending a glare to her friend. "You frightened me!"

Harry smirked in a very sexy way that made Draco want to jump on him. "Sorry," he said, though he didn't sound like he meant it.

"Honestly," Hermione groused, pulling her bag higher on her shoulder, sticking her nose in the air and stalking away angrily.

Harry snickered.

"What's gotten into you, Octavian?" Draco asked, staring.

Harry shook his head. "Let's go to lunch, yes?" he asked, holding his hand out. Draco let Harry take his arm, and the two of them set off toward the Great Hall.

"Are you all right, Love?" Draco asked delicately, telling himself that he was not referring to Harry's sudden over protectiveness, and therefore not breaking his promise.

"I'm okay," Harry replied. "Draco?"

"Yes?"

"If something were to happen," Harry said, sounding hesitant. "If, say, I were to disappear for a bit, you wouldn't come after me, right?"

"Like hell, I wouldn't!" Draco exclaimed, pulling his arm from Harry's grasp. "I'd be the first one out there looking!"

Harry frowned at him. "No," he fairly snapped. "You will stay here where it is safe."

"Har—You can't do that!" Draco cried.

Harry's frown deepened. "You don't think so?" he questioned.

Draco was suddenly aware that he'd just openly defied his mate. He paled.

"You will stay here and wait for me to return, should it ever come to that," Harry commanded him. "Is that clear?"

Draco nodded. "Octavian… are you… I mean… is there something I should know about?"

Harry shook his head and took Draco's hand. "No. I'm just making sure everything is in order when something does come up. Voldemort has been quiet for a very long time. I imagine that it's only a matter of time before he strikes again. We both know what that means."

"But," Draco whispered. "He thinks you're dead. Surely you can just disappear or something?"

"No, Draco, I can't do that. Regardless of what he may think, it's still my responsibility to destroy him."

"You know, I sometimes I have trouble seeing you as anything but a noble Gryffindor."

Harry smiled a little wistfully as the two boys sat down at the Slytherin table. "I do miss it sometimes," he muttered, watching the Gryffindors somewhat sadly. "Of course, if I were over there, then I wouldn't be able to spend every night with you."

Draco sniffed haughtily. "That would indeed be a tragedy," he agreed.

Harry laughed and pulled their lunch from the large paper sack he'd pulled from his robes. He served Draco's first before starting to eat himself.

**FOUR**

"Really, Severus," Albus said placidly, gazing over the rim of his teacup at Severus. "You should have spoken to me before doing something so drastic."

"I wasn't aware that my love life was any of your concern," Severus replied coldly, folding his hands together over this crossed legs.

"The state of your being is my concern, Severus," Albus informed him. "I now have four vampires living in my school. You, I know, are aware of my feelings about this topic."

"Yes, Albus, I am," Severus agreed. "However, who I love, how I love, and what I do for that love are none of your concern. We are all on the potion, as we are all taking precautions to remain safe to the students. None of us, Harry in particular, have any desire to cause harm here."

Albus sighed heavily, taking another sip of his tea. "Of course, Severus. You are permitted to stay. However, if at any time I feel that the safety of my students is endangered, I shall have to proceed accordingly."

Severus dipped his head in understanding. "I should have believed, Albus, that you would be happy for me. After I lost Lily, I never believed that I would be happy again. Now I have a mate, a son, and, for lack of a better term, a son-in-law. They are my family. I will do whatever I must in order to protect them."

Albus nodded. "You have not forgotten, I trust, that Harry is still bound by the prophecy? You will not be able to protect him from that, when the time arises. The only way he can be free of it is to face Voldemort."

Severus sighed. He didn't like thinking about the prophecy. "Of course, Albus. But know this, I will aid him in whatever way I can. Your approval of this matter means very little to me if I can help my son to survive."

Albus smiled for the first time since Severus had entered his office. "I would expect nothing less of you, my boy," he said benignly.

"Then I am glad that I will not have to fight you for this," Severus returned. Shortly after, he was dismissed and he returned to his rooms. It hadn't escaped his notice that Albus had referred to him as 'my boy', as though nothing had changed. He wondered if, perhaps, Albus was revising his opinion of vampires. For Harry's sake, more than his own, Severus hoped he was right. A disturbance in the corridor had Severus opening his door to investigate. He found Harry standing, holding Draco tightly about the waist. It was not a loving embrace.

"You will stop arguing with me about this!" Harry demanded, pulling Draco to him more tightly.

"You cannot just run off and play the hero anymore!" Draco cried, pushing slightly on Harry's chest in an attempt to loosen the former Gryffindor's hold on him. "You're not the only one if effects anymore! What about me? Do you even care what will happen to me?"

"How dare you question my concern for you?" Harry growled. "I ask this of you _because_ I care! How dare you suggest that I'm simply trying to play the hero? You know I have no choice!"

"Is there a problem, boys?" Severus asked, deciding to intervene before Harry hurt Draco inadvertently.

"This isn't your concern, Father," Harry replied, not turning to look at him.

"On the contrary," Severus denied. "You are my son, and this argument sounds like one that should not be taking place in the middle of a corridor where anyone might overhear." He stepped back and gestured into his rooms. Harry glared at Draco for a moment before releasing his hold. Rather than follow Draco into Severus' rooms, Harry shoved him ahead.

"Oc—" Draco started.

"You will sit down and not interrupt me again!" Harry exclaimed, pointing at the divan.

Draco sat and crossed his arms sulkily.

"The prophecy demands that I do this Draco," Harry growled, completely ignoring Severus as he sat in his armchair and crossed his legs. "I cannot, and I will not drag you along at my side simply to put you in danger! In the end, having you there would only put me in more danger!"

"I am not weak!" Draco exclaimed. "I can hold my own! You're the one whose been training me in defense!"

"I didn't say you were weak!" Harry interrupted. "But your presence would be enough! I wouldn't be able to concentrate on what I must do if I'm worried about your safety!"

Draco didn't reply. He turned his face toward the fire, and Severus saw one red-tinted tear slide down his cheek. "And what of me, Harry?" he asked after a long moment of silence. "What will become of me if something should happen to you?"

"The bond would be dissolved," Airy said from the doorway of the bedroom. Severus wondered briefly how long she had been standing there.

"Explain please," Harry forced through gritted teeth, glaring at his obstinate lover.

"If one mate should die, the bond dissolves, leaving the one remaining free to find a new mate," Airy explained simply.

"There," Harry said to Draco. "You would be fine, and probably better off without me around."

With that, Draco burst into tears. "How could you doubt my love for you?" he exclaimed. "Or my devotion? Haven't we been through enough? How can you say something like that to me?"

Harry crossed the room and pulled his mate into his arms. "I do not doubt your love or devotion. I just know that I'm not exactly healthy to be around."

"You can't leave me, Harry," Draco wept. "You just can't!"

"And I will do my very best to come home to you," Harry soothed. "But you must be prepared for the possibility that I won't come back."

"Forgive me for interrupting," Severus said, breaking his silence. "Are you planning something I should know about, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, petting Draco's hair as the blond cried into his shoulder. "No, Father. I am simply trying to prepare us for the future."

"And why this sudden interest in discussing your fate?" Severus pressed. He didn't fail to notice the way Draco went very still in Harry's arms.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes, breathing in Draco's scent deeply. "There have been dreams," he murmured.

"What of your Occlumency?" Severus questioned.

"Vampires don't dream," Airy commented at the same time. Severus shot her a disgruntled look before turning back to his son.

Harry shook his head. "The Occlumency doesn't seem to be enough anymore."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco whispered.

"I didn't want to frighten you," Harry explained softly.

"You've been so strange," Draco cried, wrenching himself from Harry's grasp. "You've been frightening me anyway with all of this talk of leaving and the way you've been so overprotective. You should have told me!"

Severus opened his mouth to agree when he saw Airy raise her hand to forestall him. He remained silent.

Harry was staring at Draco with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Return to our rooms and wait for me there," he growled.

Draco swallowed, but when he left he still slammed the door in anger.

"Please forgive that ugly scene," Harry apologized absently. "Good night, Father. Airy." With that he left the room, closing the door more gently than Draco had.

"Draco had a point, Airy," Severus said to his mate as she sat next to him.

"Harry is the dominant," Airy replied, placing her hand on Severus' knee and squeezing lightly. "Apart from that, he claimed Draco while under the influence of a Jealous Rage. Questioning him, or even agreeing with Draco on this matter would have enraged him. I thought yeh might want to avoid that."

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you are correct," he said, placing his hand on top of Airy's.

**FIVE**

Harry closed the door to the room he shared with Draco and favored his mate with an angry glare. "You would dare question my judgment in front of others?" he asked dangerously.

Draco crossed his arms stubbornly. "You should have told me," he reaffirmed stubbornly.

Harry crossed the room slowly, barely containing his rage. "You would dare," he said again. He pulled his wand and waved it at the large bed in the center of the room, separating it back into the original two. Draco looked at him with confusion. "You will sleep alone tonight," Harry said coldly, pointing at the bed on the right. "Do not speak to me again until I have calmed myself."

"Harry—" Draco started.

"You will follow my instructions!" Harry exclaimed. "Do not speak to me again this night!" He turned and stormed out of the room to try to calm down before he did something he would regret. His rational self knew that Draco had a point, but his more dominant vampire instincts were screaming at him to put Draco back in his place in whatever way necessary. He needed to cool off before he hurt Draco horribly.

He took a long walk near the lake in an effort to calm down, but it did little to cool his raging temper. When he returned to the room he shared with Draco, he found the blond kneeling on the floor in a very submissive pose, with his head lowered and his hands behind his back. Harry bristled immediately.

"You have enraged me beyond reason, and yet you continue to defy me?" he questioned angrily. He was mollified somewhat when Draco didn't respond, remembering his earlier order to not speak until Harry had calmed down. "Go to bed, Draco," Harry muttered, tossing himself on his own bed. "We will straighten this out in the morning."

Draco stood slowly and moved to the opposite bed. He lay down stiffly on his back without a word. It took Harry ages to fall asleep, and when he did, he had another vision.

In the morning, Harry felt the pressure of his lack of sleep in recent days, but he opened his eyes anyway. Draco was kneeling on the floor next to his bed, looking at him beseechingly.

Harry sighed, pulled up a corner of his blanket and allowed Draco to join him. He was feeling calmer and more rational this morning. "You're right," he said softly, petting Draco's hair. "I should have told you."

"I've been so worried about you," Draco said, tracing Harry's chest with a finger. "I could hardly rest last night with you so angry with me."

"Perhaps in the future I will talk to you about these things before it all explodes like that again," Harry mused.

"Forgive me for being so insolent last night, Harry," Draco implored softly.

"If you'll forgive me for getting so angry," Harry replied. He kissed the top of Draco's head, then used his finger under Draco's chin to tip his head up. He placed a kiss on the blonde's lips, which quickly turned heated. Draco mewled in delight as Harry climbed on top of him. "I want to be inside of you," Harry purred, nipping at Draco's neck.

"Yesss," Draco hissed, tipping his head to the side to give Harry more room. "I missed you so much last night."

Harry pulled his wand and silenced the room before tossing it aside. With that, he proceeded to trail kisses down Draco's body, pausing to nibble and suck on Draco's nipples, and again the swirl his tongue in Draco's belly button. When he reached Draco's hips, Harry knelt back and pulled Draco's legs over his shoulders. They had rough angry sex, wherein Harry worked out his frustrations with his stubborn mate. A few minutes after they'd finished, Harry began stirring again, still inside his mate's body.

"Harry, we have class," Draco said halfheartedly.

"Fuck class," Harry murmured. "Turn around."

Draco shifted onto his stomach. Harry repositioned him so that Draco was kneeling and holding the headboard before gently pushing himself back into Draco's entrance. Neither boy left the dorm that day.


End file.
